Dawn of heroes: fallen angel
by Liam Black
Summary: the year is 2056, america has annexed canada, the carribian, and mexico. south america has allied and joined the growing nation. together they formed they western hemisphere coalition. but it's only the start. they want the world. WARNING: LANGUAGE!
1. Chapter 1

**Dawn of hero's**

By Liam Black

"_It is fatal to enter any war without the will to win it."  
__General Douglas MacArthur_

Part one: Tartoni Chapter one: in the beginning

James laid his head on his dishevelled bed, eyes drifting into space. Fiddling with his identity bracelet, it was required by law for safety reasons but that didn't make it comfortable. The revolutionary device was a credit card, an insurance document, and a drivers licence all in one, and yet even with all those things, it still seemed to stick out, everyone had one. If you couldn't get your girlfriend the right gift, you could buy a scanner online and scan hers to see what she liked. It was just something more to go wrong in James's mind a small smooth ring latched tightly to his arm, it didn't hurt, but after ten years of wearing it, it was like a part of him, funny he thought, my entire digital life was stored on this, every transaction, every entry fee, was stored on this. It was late; the sound of crickets was muffled only by his parents arguing. Shouts, yells, screams, and the occasional slap, the hitting was new, it seemed that the past ten years had done their worst on his parents. And they couldn't divorce because it was illegal. His brother was no better, couldn't hold a job, but he found himself at home with the gangs. Called themselves gun runners, Tommy almost had his tattoo, almost a full member. James tried his best to ignore it all, stayed in his own world, but when he got expelled for threatening with a knife and ended up in juvenile prison, no school would accept him, then one night, after a few drinks, enter Tommy, with a vial of orange neon liquid in a needle, says James needs a high, James takes it in the arm, and now he's Tommy's pawn, always needing a fix.

This night was ok; he'd just helped Tommy out with moving some guns for the gun runners. And now he was just waiting for the fix. Just thinking about the high made him drool. One time he's taken it and ended up fighting five guys after punching one in the head, had a concussion but just kept on fighting, whatever it was, it made him feel like a god, immune to puny mortal rivals. "I need that stuff right now" he said to himself, feeling all the more hungry for the drug.

Tommy: Downtown Riddlefield earlier that day

The crowds of people leaving their offices engulfed him, to them he was just a stubborn bastard who stood still on the side walk, and Tommy always felt at home in a crowd. Today was simple, five hundred bucks in an evening and the world was on a silver platter. He'd been doing muggings for a few months now and the money he was bringing in would get him his place in the higher ups, grunt work was fun but leading a group was going to be way better. All he needed was five hundred bucks to meet his weeks due and he was golden.

It took only a few minutes to find someone; Tommy had been hanging out at a cafe with Wi-Fi, that meant laptops and AI phones, the new 10G cells fetched a hefty price online. And laptops were hard to track once you wiped the hard drive. The nerd he'd been watching packed up his gear, a gaming laptop and some wireless equipment, into a bag. He got up quickly, and walked quickly to the door. Tommy patted his pockets to make sure his knife was on him, and trailed the nerd until he was alone. Tommy walked ahead of the nerd, stopped and hit the nerd in the face dropping him to the ground. He pulled out his knife, an eight inch smooth edge hunting knife, and put up to the now weeping nerd.

"You know what that is, don't you?" he said, in a cool yet terrifying voice. There was a faint whimper and a nod. Tears streaming down his face, Tommy moved his knife and grabbed the nerd by the head and smashed his face into the pavement. The nerd screamed and cried, tears and blood mixed on the tip of his nose, falling to the ground soundlessly.

"Answer me god dammit! Do you know what that is? Or do I have to kill you for being a fucking retard?" Tommy yelled, grinning afterwards.

"it-it-it's a knife" said the nerd, it was only now that Tommy realised that he was mugging a kid, maybe fourteen. Perfect he thought, won't tell the cops.

"How much is that pretty laptop cost?" asked Tommy.

"What laptop?" the kid replied. Tommy knew he was lying; he needed to make an example. He jabbed the knife into the kid's hand. He screamed.

"Ok ok, please, I have money, take it instead." Sobbed the nerd

Tommy thought about this, moving laptop costs money, moving a phone is easy, but cash is quick. Just take the cash.

"Fine, how much, if it's not five hundred, your fucking dead, got it?" he said.

The nerd got up, wincing and sniffling a bit when he put pressure on his hand, he looked at Tommy.

"I think so, my mom keeps an emergency family account for all of us. I can give it to you. Just don't hurt me please" He said, looking at the ground in shame

"Fine, come with me" said Tommy, dragging the boy to an ATM.

"Do it"

The nerd swiped his identity bracelet on the machine, pushed a few buttons and took the money from the machine.

"Take it." Said the nerd, looking in disgust at Tommy, and shoved the money into his chest, running away crying as he did so. But before he could go a single step, Tommy hit the kid on the head with the butt of his knife, knocking the kid out; Tommy took off the back pack the kid was wearing, checked to see if the laptop was inside, making sure it wasn't damaged in the mugging, satisfied he walked away.

Tommy flipped through the bills, the nerd had been a good choice, and the luck of that account just made things easy, today a grunt, tomorrow, a member of the gun runners. All he had to do was get back home, find the keys to his car and find a driver and he was set. Five hundred dollars in untraceable cash, a good laptop and he got to stab someone; the night was just getting better.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: the fix

The sound of Tommy rummaging through the cabinet like a tornado woke up James, who was sleeping in the lower bunk. James opened his eyes, looking around the dimly lit room that passed for a bedroom for two, clothes and magazines covered the ground, and the twenty year old lamp barley lit the room up. Old paint was fading and sports posters were half off the wall. The dura sheet had chipped paint in some places, it was a new building materiel that behaved like dry wall but was five hundred percent stronger and more durable, as well as being lighter and cleaner then dry wall meant that the extra cost went a long way, on the down side it was foggy but very see through. Meaning that paint or the new fading spray was necessary for privacy was poking through in some places.

"Christ, Tommy you know what time it is?" said James, rubbing his eyes.

"Time for you to get your lazy ass out of bed" Tommy replied, obviously ignorant to the hour it was, which was very early for those interested.

"Why the hell are you up this early man, I need my sleep" said James trying to get back to sleep.

"I just got my shot at being a member, comprende?" as Tommy finished the sentence, James was suddenly awake, staring at Tommy with a hint of worry in his eyes.

"You mean?" asked James, his voice faint.

"Yes" replied Tommy, grinning as he said it his eyes held a fire in them.

"I won't do it, I'm not doing it!" yelled James, losing control, and tripping over a special issue of sports illustrated.

"You don't have much of a choice!" said Tommy with little sympathy, continuing to search for his gun and keys.

James had always dreaded this day, the gang Tommy was with, the gun runners, had an initiation. A brutal one not to the initiate, but to innocents, those who wanted to be more then grunts had to perform a drive by, not on a city street, but on the highway, they had to kill at least five people to become a member. This makes highway driving a deadly choice. James still remembered when, on the highway, his family was shot at, they were driving in a hatchback, of course they would attack it, the gangs always picked prey that couldn't escape, the gang members used pistols, they just started shooting, mom freaked out and let go of the wheel, the van jack knifed and started rolling like a barrel, he thought they were dead for sure, but through some sort of miracle, they all survived the crash and the gangs car drove on, probably thinking the crash killed them. When dad heard he started yelling at mom for trashing the car, mom was paranoid from that day forward, wouldn't leave the house.

"Why can't you just get one of your friends to help you? I'm sick of being your bitch" said James

"Because you're the only guy I know who can drive a getaway car fast enough, and the only one hooked on psycho, and I just happen to have a dose on me..." Tommy said slyly

"Oh fuck you man, just let me live in peace, I hate what I do on that stuff." James was holding back the urge to cry, he wanted the drug so badly it hurt, but the thought of killing people was always horrible, he could do it, he'd done it before, he remembered his first kill, it was winter and he'd just helped rob a store when a rent a cop showed up with a taser and threatened to shoot, James brought his gun up and threatened to shoot back, the cop stepped forward, trying to get through to him, to change him for the better and James shot him in the chest for caring for his future. James ran off before the cop drew his last breath, but he knew it was a kill shot.

"James" Tommy said "you've killed, I've killed, it doesn't make a dent in the world if a few more people die, besides it'll be fun, shoot some guns and get high, what's not to love?" Tommy was disappointed by a lack of response "alright Jane, untie your ponytail, put on a pair of boxers, grow a pair and start acting like a fucking man." Tommy always called him Jane when he needed to piss him off enough to prove to Tommy that he was a man, it worked. Sort of, he just needed a bit more of a push.

"James, I almost hate to do this but if you're not willing to help I guess you can say good bye to that entire dose psycho..."

"He'd bent my rubber arm", James thought, grimacing as he took the vial.

"Fine, but save the other half for later, I get the feeling I'm going to hate myself after this" James gave up the fight and rolled up his sleeve, grabbing the vial and stabbed it into his arm, pulling back on the plunger to see if he hit a vain, a red cloud puffed up in the liquid. He pushed down on the plunger, letting the glowing fluid flow through his veins, making his entire arm numb, and then it tingled like you get when your foot's asleep, the feeling of invulnerability made him grin, "fuck the real world" he thought, "let's kill some shit".


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three: highway to hell

They left right away, and it only took ten minutes to get on the highway, it was tight after midnight shift, the summer solstice still shining, the highway had enough cars to get an easy kill, but few enough for an easy escape, that last part was essential, highway patrol were trigger-happy with gangs, often shooting to kill during car chases. The group had chosen an old Hyto hybrid 2061 usilo, a practical car that had enough pep to keep it out of the cops shooting range and was common enough to make it impossible to identify, especially when in stock silver. In the driver's seat was James, bouncing slightly in his seat, sweating and occasionally punching the steering wheel, with enough psycho in him to give a great dane a heart attack, it was a wonder he hadn't started eating the shirt off his back, riding shotgun was Tommy's friend Ralph, a fat kid who was also running with the gun runners (no pun intended). He was understandably nervous being beside James, considering the state James was in, as he loaded the guns they'd borrowed from the gun bank, the storage facility the runners used to store guns. On his lap was a sawed off pump action 12 gauge shotgun, a CP-10 10mm machine pistol, and a wood grain SR-109 "raider" assault rifle with a barrel magazine. Tommy was in the back, looking around as they drove, looking for a particularly slow lane to shoot at with a faster lane beside it. His face hid no emotion, he was exited; the thought of using those guns from a car was giving him an adrenalin buzz already.

"Come on! Let's get this Goddamn show on the road, Ralph, we there yet?" said Tommy, sounding like a foul mouthed impatient ten year old, not a seventeen year old stone cold killer.

"We would be there already, but your dog in the driver's seat keeps missing the exit". Said Ralph

"Who you calling a dog ya' fucking wench!" roared James, the psycho talking more than he, who was not paying the least bit of attention to the road, Swerving violently to avoid a slow moving minivan. James opened the upper side port of the cars fibreglass roof. "hey, move that fucking shit stain of a car out of the fucking fast lane you stupid ignorant soccer mom bitch!" he cried out, giving the van the finger.

"Jesus, sorry man" said Ralph, who was apologizing mostly to keep James from freaking out and crashing, rule one for a friend or someone near a psycho user, never piss them off, a pissed psych user had dead people around them.

"Hey, junkie" said Tommy "can you keep your eyes on the road?" Who had obviously never heard the first rule.

"Fucking yea I can!" said James pressing his face against the windshield, drugs taking an effect on his sense of dignity.

Ralph took this moment to speak up "yea this looks like a good spot, Tommy you want the rifle or the shotgun?" he asked, like he was offering ketchup or mayonnaise for fries.

"Uh...I'll take the terrorist rife, you can take the shotgun, and James you got the pistol".

Obviously such a small weapon would be a pitiful weapon for the mighty James, because at this point, his perception of reality was ruined, everything was a challenge, he was making sure the tarmac knew not to look at him wrong, he was telling the car to go faster like you would an animal, and when it hit a bump and shook, he yelled at it. Obviously he was going to blow this out of proportion.

"Why the fuck do I get the wimps gun?" he yelled, looking at the gun in disgust

"Because you need one hand to drive idiot" Said Tommy.

"Oh... still." said James

"Still nothing James you ne-"Tommy was cut off by Ralph.

"Guys, shut up, remember, don't shoot the cars in front, if they crash and block the exit, we're screwed, with that out of the way, I think I see our first victim" said Ralph, referring to the bus beside them, he was having a tough time moving his girth in his seat to get a better angle on the window.

'fuckin aye" said Tommy, standing up in the car and sliding the sun open and stood up, he slid in the clip, cocked it, and took aim. Several cars screeched as the drivers slammed on the brakes, he opened up with automatic fire, filling the bus next to them with holes, Ralph was cursing like a sailor as he fired round after round into the said bus, after a few seconds the whole bus was riddled with bullet holes as it careened out of control, Tommy was cheering and screaming as the carnage consumed him, he began firing at all the cars in front of them. James was firing at whatever got close, usually the ground, letting lose entire clips in the air, he noticed a small hatch back, grinning, as it tried to escape from them, he floored it. Tommy almost fell out of the car, swearing as he got back up, the engine roared as he gave chase, once close, he opened up at the car, half a clip later a red splatter consumed the car's interior, and it began to roll until it flew right off the bridge they were on, James gave out a howl. The psycho was great, "let all know of the merciless James, and his legendary pistol, "_the red dragon'"_ he yelled, acting like some sort of Norse god rather than a drug addicted loner. This was why psycho was great, it made you a god, it made you care little for the puny mortals in your way, and "nothing can stop my crusade of lead. Nothing at all" he yelled.

With most of the ammo gone and James rethinking his words, they sped off on the nearest exit, Carnage in their wake. The psycho was starting to wear off, and the weight of it all was beginning to take hold.

"Hey Ralph, you see the way that bus took out those cars, nobody could've survived that, how many bodies you need to get in again?" asked Tommy, eye's holding a fire in them, his unquenchable thirst for violence tided off for the moment.

"About five I think, but that's with pistols, still you're in for sure, hell if a higher up pulled that off he'd be on his way to the top, so you're good' replied Ralph, talking like you do when you leave the theatre, not after you pull off a practical terrorist attack.

"Hells yes, you hear that James, you're driving a soon to be legend, Tommy the terrible, I like it, it's got a ring to it, whadda'ya think Ralph?"

"Yea I guess sounds a bit corny, like a family movie villain, but it could work if you got a reputation" said Ralph. "And James, it doesn't matter what the boss says, you're a gun runner driver, and I'll take you in."

James was trying not to cry over what he'd done, or freaking out about now _being_ a gun runner, "Thanks, that's great, but maybe we should get the hell out of here", looking back, only smoke, death and loathing in the air as they drove on.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four: the law

Sheriff Michael Anders had been sheriff of Riddlefield for twenty years, and had served as a American army ranger for another ten, and in that time he'd seen things that would make jack the ripper look small time, mass murders, regime changes, and gang warfare the size of civil wars. Riddlefield was a mess, every crime possible had a place here, from muggings to murder, it could be found here, and yet, when the gun runners got a new member, it always made him shudder, and he wasn't a man that was disturbed easily, this was the man who got into a gunfight with twenty gang members, and was able to kill half of them before backup arrived, he was a veteran on the force, a living legend, and it still hurt him when he saw dead civilians. Looking around the twisted wreckage of what was left of the bus, bodies hung from the rafters, and blood and organs coated the seats. He took a long drag on his cigarette, let it exhale slowly, the smoke drifted up until it a drone flew in and vacuumed the smoke analyzing it, and then pumping it out again. Walking out of the bus the chaos of the scene unravelled, the air was littered with EMS and news helicopters, buzzing through the air, some trying to save lives, and some getting tonight's breaking news. Sadly the news choppers seemed to be doing a better job. He passed a paramedic and a reporter arguing, the paramedic wanted to use the news choppers for transport, and the reporter was talking about a price, sighing, the sheriff walked on. Drones hovered and sped all over the place, scanning victims for insurance documents, doing basic interviews, then leaving, fire fighters were busy cutting open cars to get at victims inside, over all, it was bad. Once in the open, the sheriff noticed who he was looking for, a deputy by the name of Phil.

"Phil, get over here!" he shouted, trying to be heard over the buzz of the helicopters and drones.

Phil raised his head, looked in the direction of the sheriff and started sprinting towards him "hey sheriff, listen this reporter wants to have an interview with whoever's in cha-"

"Deputy, I don't have time for reporters, I need to know what's going on" he said, going straight for the point. The sheriff hated press, they got in the way; he usually had Phil do that. Not that Phil was much of a TV guy; he looked ridiculous with a Kevlar vest on top of his white shirt and tie. Glasses slightly bigger then they needed to be.

"yessir, all right, the paramedics say about thirty two people were killed by a combination of bullets and crashing, not a lot of survivors, one guy made it out ok but he didn't have insurance so we had to leave him, he's in line for the local hospital, anyway, I get the feeling this is gun runner, mostly because they knew what to look for, slow line of traffic with a faster or reserved lane next to it, they didn't shoot the cars in front, and they hit their target, most of the dead had headshots, not to many bullets in the side panels. Most witnesses say they saw a silver Hyto 2059 Jora, either three or four in the car, hard to tell what age they were, and they were using a shotgun and some type of machine gun, perhaps a hybrid of a LMG and an assault rifle." Phil may look like a nerd, but he knew how to impress, and he could get info, which was why the sheriff kept him around. Before he could ask any more questions though, his heads up display lit up, sergeant kande was reporting in.

"Sergeant, this better be important" he said, anxious about what it was

"Sheriff, we found the gun men and are on their trail, permission to use lethal force?" said the sergeant, it seemed that the police force was becoming more and more like the army, but after seeing this, he wanted to finish off the heartless bastards who did this himself, checking his vintage 2016 45 calibre law maker revolver. "Negative sergeant, I want to finish these punks off myself, continue pursuit until I get there" years of experience made his word pretty much the word of god, he knew he could wrap this up quickly, but he had to know with his own eyes that justice was served.

"Phil, get me a squad car right now, we got lawmaking to do".

Meanwhile with James and company

James was on the verge of breaking down, he was ashamed, he'd bent to the psycho, he'd done what Tommy asked in order to get it, and he'd killed innocents, and the fact that he'd actually shot at that hatchback. That could've been him. He could have been leading a normal life, driving to his friend's house, and then suddenly he could've been shot at and killed by a moron with a psycho addiction. His train of thought was derailed by Tommy.

"Hey, you see that car? Been following us since the drive by, what'd you think Ralph?" said Tommy, his head swivelled around so he faced rear window.

"Maybe, maybe, but this is pretty far into industrial, cops never go into industrial" replied Ralph, like he was commenting on the weather, his coolness about crime was eerie to James, even Tommy got jumpy, it was like Ralph was stoned most of the time, given that he was one of Tommy's friends that was most likely the case.

"Well if they are, then they're in for a surprise" replied Tommy, still looking at the car.

James was gripping the wheel; his face was covered in sweat, part fear of being busted, part shame of what happened, hoping that this would all blow over. That Ralph wouldn't get the chance to recommend him as a gun runner. But the psycho he could get from the gang would be worth it, maybe convince them to start shipping drugs, move them around and get a skim of the product; he could either be Tommy's pawn the rest of his life, or become what he hated.

"Oh shit" said Tommy "oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" he cried, looking back James could see what the problem was, a police cruiser had joined the trailing car. Sirens started blaring, the cops were onto them.

"Fuck, the cops!" yelled Ralph, looking around helplessly "what we do?" he asked, sounding pathetic for a murderer.

"We kill them" said Tommy, "we teach the cops a lesson about fucking with the gun runners! Ralph, toss me a new clip, I'll shoot 'em from the sunroof"

Ralph dug around in his bag for a clip, a few seconds later he found one and tossed it to Tommy, who was getting impatient.

"Tommy, take this" said James tossing back his machine pistol, "in case you run out of ammo." He said, making up an excuse to not shoot anyone.

"Thanks James" said Tommy, it may have been the stress or the psycho wearing off, but it sounded like Tommy was actually being thankful. Ralph slid in one more shell, pumped the shotgun and opened the door to get a better shot; he got off one shot, hitting the first car's hood, before a thunderous gunshot erupted from the second car and half of Ralphs head was missing.

"Holy shit!" cried James, shielding his eyes from the blood pouring out of place where Ralphs forehead used to be.

The dead body was hanging from the seat belt, wobbling slightly with the speed of the car, gore covered Ralphs side of the car, a blood streak covering the rear windows on the outside. James stopped staring at the dead body long enough to see an eighteen wheeler coming at them, another gunshot was fired at their car, Tommy swore when they swerved, James looked up to see an enormous hole a foot away from Tommy's chest. The cop cars were gaining on them, James looked at Ralphs body "too much weight" he thought, and then quickly swerved the car, shaking the body until it fell out of the car. "James what the fuck, you trying to k-"he was cut off by a huge crunch sound, Ralphs body was now Jammed into the wind screen of the second cop car. Tommy laughing hysterically as they drove away.

The sheriff

Sheriff Michael had ordered a cruiser, and by god he got one, Phil arrived five minutes later with a cruiser, sheriff got into the driver's side, and floored it to the nearest exit. Phil as usual had concerns

"What if they shoot at us?" he asked, sounding like a moron in the sheriff's ears

"Then we shoot back" he said bluntly, preferring to not worry about things like morale, instead keeping his eyes on the road. He brought up his heads up display "Sergeant, what's your status?"

"Sir, we are still behind them, I get the feeling they saw us but we're fine" he answered, his voice seemed distracted, most likely because of the driving.

"We'll be there in five minutes tops" replied the sheriff, the slightest hint of urgency could be heard, but only if you knew to look for it.

"Sir, this is industrial, no one I know ever patrols industrial." Phil was nervous; he was a numbers guy, not someone you want in a fire fight.

"Calm down, we're here to kill some fugitives and that's it."

"yessir" replied Phil, still hiding in his Kevlar vest like a turtle.

"That's them, light up the sirens, we have our target" Phil, lit up the sirens, immediately the occupants in the chase car started moving, passing around things, most likely trying to hide something, then someone jumped out of the sun roof and started shooting at the sergeants car. He began to swerve to avoid the gun fire, a fat guy opened the door on the chase car, holding a shotgun, firing off a round at the cruiser, a huge hole was ripped open in the hood, the sheriff grinned, and Phil squealed and shielded his face with his scrawny arms. Michael aimed his revolver through the window and fired, and the fat guy dropped his gun on the street and was barely held in place by the seat belts grey matter and blood dribbled on the road, some getting on the windshield, Phil turned the wind shield wipers on. Michael took aim again, aiming for the thug with the assault rifle, but just as he fired the car swerved and dodged a semi truck, cursing he took aim again, but before he could, the fat guy fell out of the car, hit the tarmac, got some air, and hit the cruiser like a sack of potatoes fired out of a cannon.

When Michael woke up, he found that the cruiser had lost control and hit the side of a building. Looking over at Phil, it was clear he was dead; half his head was caved in by the fat guy's body. Clutching his broken rib, Michael struggled to get out of the cruiser. He walked over to the sergeant's cruiser, the glass riddled with bullet holes, looking inside he was disappointed to see both the sergeant and his partner riddled with bullets.

"Gun runners, I'm too old for this crap."

James looked back at the carnage that lay behind them; the first cruiser was a mess of bullet holes, the second wrecked by Ralph's body. Half of the car was buried inside the side of a warehouse. Tommy ducked back into the car, sighing with the satisfaction of a job well done.

"always did make a second trip to the lunch line Ralph, guess those extra burgers really did help eh James" Tommy grinned at his joke. Leaving James to wonder if Ralph had known what Tommy thought of him.

"you ok Tommy?" asked James

Tommy looked confused "yea, no bullet holes, I'm fine. Why'd you ask?" he replied

"I'm talking about Ralph; he was your friend right?" James said, starting to sound worried

"Yea I'm fine, guy knew the risks when he helped out, that reminds me, we gotta make a stop at the gun runners car lot" said Tommy coolly.

James stayed silent as they drove on. Hopping everything was behind him, the violence, everything.

They abandoned the car at a small scrap metal dealer working with the gun runners. With a nod the owner took the car in and gave the brothers a few hundred for the car.

"I'm guessing we take a taxi from here?" said James

"yep, just wait here alright" said Tommy, already calling a taxi.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter five: gun runner/s

It was early in the morning when they got to the gun runners Riddlefield hangout, by the look of it, they kept it in pretty good shape, no holes, no crumbling concrete, and it all looked to professional. Stepping out of the taxi, James and Tommy paid the driver, and got out. Once on the side walk Tommy took a moment to get James up to speed on the does and don'ts.

"James, you mind stepping over here for a second" said Tommy, pointing to an alley way.

"Lead the way" said James, still feeling the weight of the day's events on his shoulders"

"Right, first things first, don't talk to anybody, don't try and make light conversation. Just shut the fuck up, answer what is asked, don't go off topic, and the leader's name to everyone is just sir, got it?" it seemed to James that Tommy had maybe memorised this little speech, there were no hiccups in the lines, it was like he knew what to say. Or maybe Tommy had heard it before. They left the alley and went inside the building; on the other side of the main door was a solid metal door with a small ancient plasma screen on it, only six by six inches. A blurred figure was on the other side.

"Welcome to the lansa midnight club, we're not open at this time, please come again later" said the blurred figure.

"Oh really?" said Tommy, James was about to pull him back, afraid he might make a scene. "Somebody told me this place was way above the rest. The figure seemed more interested.

"Sounds like a smart guy, who was he?" it asked.

"Danto Hasa" said Tommy, the door slid open to reveal a very different surrounding, the entire building had been striped and walls torn down, to make room for more weapons, crates were stacked four high in some places, gang members worked quickly, moving guns around, some were cleaning and taking them apart. They walked past some open crates, the entire thing filled with deadly weaponry. They walked up a metal stair case to the second floor, here they were greeted by two guards wearing suits and armed with pistols, they walked up and told them to empty their pockets, James dropped his old cell phone; Tommy took a bit more time removing his knife and other things that James had never seen before, he dropped a phone, the guard picked up

"Nice phone" he said

"Thanks, just got it" replied Tommy, grinning as he slid it into his pocket.

"Since when did you buy Apple?" said James, looking at Tommy

Tommy ignored the inquiry "just shut your mouth and play retard won't you?" he said walking on.

Once that was over, they were pushed into a plain office, inside was yet another guard in a suit, and behind the desk was a young man, with groomed short hair, and what appeared to be a suit that most likely cost more than the building they were in.

"Ah, so you must Tommy, heard about you, I get the feeling you're more the trigger man then the guy making the call, am I right?" his voice was smooth, charismatic, and more or less the exact opposite of what James had expected, obviously the guy in the suit noticed this. "You must be Tommy's brother, nice to meet you, I can tell you're confused so let me explain, the gun runners are a merchant gang, we sell guns, we don't use them, we let grunt's take care of the heavy lifting, the gangs got two sides to it, the gunners and the runners as I call them, your brother, he's a gunner, we use them to take care of things, you on the other hand are a runner, the runners move stuff around, good drivers and know how to keep their head down. A guy like me is the fabric that holds it together, we have dealers for small stuff, but for bigger sales, they send me. So yes, I'm not sir if that's what you're wondering. To the point, things are going downhill fast, we need muscle, we're not cut out for gang wars, we work on the sidelines, supplying both sides, but we are never one of the sides. So we need to fight our way, I'm willing to pay you two a handsome fee for every shipment you take out that's not ours, sir thinks that if the gangs don't have any money, they won't fight, and he's got me trying to snag any small time gangs I can find. So what do you say, deal?" the way he said it, it sounded like they were the gangs last hope, and James needed the money, but working as a freelancer killing people and ambushing shipment's would make him a very easy target, and with no one to back him up, he would be on his own. He was about to reply when Tommy spoke up.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter six: wrong place, wrong time

"You got a deal, Mr. Eh..." Tommy was at a loss

"Boss, just call me boss" he replied.

"Ok Mr. Boss, you have a deal" said Tommy, boss reached out to shake Tommy's hand when something happened downstairs. There was a huge "wham" followed by a less thunderous "clang" yelling and gunshot's erupted

"Shit! It's a raid!" cried boss, pushing over his desk to cover himself, the guard raised his pistol and opened the door, and ran outside, trying to help out the defence.

"Tommy, here use these." Hissed boss, tossing them each a pistol, James sighed and loaded it, realizing that once again, he was putting his life on the line so he could save himself and live a life he didn't want, sliding in a clip and pulling back the pin, he was ready, looking at the side of the pistol, he could read that it was a 9mm pistol, not what you want when your toe to toe with Riddlefield's finest. Gunshots erupted on the second floor, Tommy spoke up

"What'd we do now?" he asked

"Shoot until you can't" replied boss. The gunshots stopped and James could hear footsteps coming from the outside, from what he could hear, more and more were gathering around the door, the door opened a bit and a small silver ball rolled on the ground it seemed to just stand there for a few second, boss got from behind his cover to take a look, James ducked just as the silver ball exploded into a fine white mist, ear piercing noise erupted a fraction of a second later, the door burst open and what seemed to be an army opened fire inside the tiny room, this went on for a few seconds, after that someone yelled clear and three men entered the office, guns raised, James played dead, opening one of his eyes a bit to see what the hell had happened. Boss was on the ground trying to aim his pistol, his face covered in blood. One of the S.W.A.T. guys raised his gun and shot boss. Lowering it slowly, they walked up to James and Tommy

"Age?" asked what James suspected to be the leader.

"Sixteen" he replied, his voice meek and cowardly

"You, the one beside this one, age?"

"Seventeen" shouted Tommy" so don't fucking shoot me ok!" his boldness only hidden by how surprised he was.

"Get up, face the wall if you want to live, we are taking you into custody" said the leader, his two partners grabbing James and Tommy by their shirts and shoving them against the wall. James was about to ask for his rights, when he was hit on the head, so that just about summed them up. None.

As they walked down the second floor, Tommy and James and a few others, James was able to see the warzone one floor below. Bodies littered the floor, all of them belonging to the gang, the irony was stupefying, the gang had all the guns they could ever need, but they didn't have time to use them. Crates had been broken, guns littered the path. A dozen police men were already cataloguing everything. Drones flew around, transporting data and evidence. As well as scanning each face of the deceased, and of the arrested. James flinched when the drones flash nearly blinded him, making him trip and landing right in front of a dead person, their expression of shock forever frozen in their dead faces. James got back up and joined the line. There they marched into the streets, and with that he could see the crowds of people, pointing and taking photos. James was almost glad to be in the transport. He was cuffed next to the wall, once the door slammed shut, James passed out, sleeping on the cold steel wall.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven: countdown

James was left in a white room, barely long enough to lie down in, granted he was tall, but even a short person would have trouble, James tried lying down corner to corner, it worked. Lying down he could see a timer, it was counting down from forty-eight hours. James decided not to fight fate, inside the room, there was a small data pad, James picked it up, there was a keyboard on it, like the ones you find on old phones, only bigger. He started typing; only a few were worth rereading

**Hour one**

I wish I'd never listened to Tommy, he got me in this mess, I hope he strangles on the rope, or that the firing squad hits him in the throat. I just hope he suffers. That is if he's still alive, which a doubt, he's probably already in hell, swinging back a pint with Satan, a father son moment per say.

**Hour ten**

Got some food, it was ok I guess, figure they want us to be heavy so the rope gets us on the first try. Thinking back that guard probably just said get a life sentence just to keep me clinging to that glimmer of hope.

**Hour twenty**

I want to say sorry to mom, she never did anything wrong, all she did was be herself, and now I killed her, I hope I suffer for what I did.

**Hour thirty nine**

Times almost up, I've counted half the grains of sand in the concrete, I'm starting to lose it, and I hope I don't look like a moron when I die.

**Hour forty six**

Exactly two hours, 120 minutes, seven thousand and two hundred seconds until I'm fucked, until I final get some peace, until I get to have my life examined like a piece of meat at a market by some angle, why does god only except those who devote their lives to him, why is he so mad at everyone else, because for all that unconditional love crap, heaven seems pretty VIP to me. Maybe I should start praying. I'll do that. That guard probably forgot about me already. Like everyone else I ever knew.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter seven: countdown

James was left in a white room, barely long enough to lie down in, granted he was tall, but even a short person would have trouble, James tried lying down corner to corner, it worked. Lying down he could see a timer, it was counting down from forty-eight hours. James decided not to fight fate, inside the room, there was a small data pad, James picked it up, there was a keyboard on it, like the ones you find on old phones, only bigger. He started typing; only a few were worth rereading

**Hour one**

I wish I'd never listened to Tommy, he got me in this mess, I hope he strangles on the rope, or that the firing squad hits him in the throat. I just hope he suffers. That is if he's still alive, which a doubt, he's probably already in hell, swinging back a pint with Satan, a father son moment per say.

**Hour ten**

Got some food, it was ok I guess, figure they want us to be heavy so the rope gets us on the first try. Thinking back that guard probably just said get a life sentence just to keep me clinging to that glimmer of hope.

**Hour twenty**

I want to say sorry to mom, she never did anything wrong, all she did was be herself, and now I killed her, I hope I suffer for what I did.

**Hour thirty nine**

Times almost up, I've counted half the grains of sand in the concrete, I'm starting to lose it, and I hope I don't look like a moron when I die.

**Hour forty six**

Exactly two hours, 120 minutes, seven thousand and two hundred seconds until I'm fucked, until I final get some peace, until I get to have my life examined like a piece of meat at a market by some angle, why does god only except those who devote their lives to him, why is he so mad at everyone else, because for all that unconditional love crap, heaven seems pretty VIP to me. Maybe I should start praying. I'll do that. That guard probably forgot about me already. Like everyone else I ever knew.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter eight: The VIP.

James had been praying for a good solid hour and a half, and was sure that he would at least get put in a more tolerable part of hell, maybe lower management or hells janitor, get paid in hell dollars or something. The time spent in the cell with nothing to do had done their worst on James. So when the cell door opened, instead of taking his chance at freedom he snapped back into reality, the reality where he was about to die. So he decided to have the last laugh.

"James Tartoni?" asked a different guard

"Nope" said James, trying to feign innocent

"Funny" said the guard, pulling out a shock baton and beating the ever loving crap out of James.

"James Tartoni?" asked the guard again.

"Nope, I think you killed him" said James, wincing.

"Oh really? Well you were getting bail, so, next cell you said?" said the guard, looking smug.

"Shit! I'm James Tartoni, that's me, please let me out!" cried James charging towards the guard, he buzzed James with the baton.

"Sorry, I guess I got the wrong person" said the guard, shutting the heavy steel door behind him, Leaving James to wallow in his stupidity. After the ringing of the door stopped, James could faintly hear arguing from the outside; James pressed his ear against the door. It opened a moment or two later, and James fell over into the hallway, landing on a pair of shoes. Just in time to see another man from the raid get dragged to a sealed room, screaming all the way.

"He just replaced you, same weight and height, facial doesn't matter, after the gas is done, no one could tell the difference" said the owner of the shoes; James looked up to see a man dressed in a casual business suit.

"You must be James, get up, we have a lot to discuss" said the man with the shoes, James nodded, still in awe and total confusion. Half an hour later, after the guards gave him ten minutes to wash up and make himself presentable. They brought him to a small office, similar to the one were James was confronted with boss.

"You are James Tartoni, Correct?" said the man in the suit; he looked to be in his late thirties, with short peppered hair, his eyes full of experience. He seemed at ease, relaxed despite the soundings.

"yes, that's me, I guess I'm going to be interviewed before I die, the last words of one of the terrorists who killed innocents, well guess what, I feel like shit, ok, there's your interview right there, I regret it all, I did it for drugs the end" James was losing it, shouting at the man in the suit "can somebody kill me now, you there with the gun" said James pointing to one of the guards, "you that's right you, you shoot me ok." He said, tapping his forehead, letting the guard know where to shoot, the man in the suit waved his hand, dismissing the guards.

"James, with what you're going through, I can understand you freaking out, but I'm not a reporter ok, I'm with the government and I want you to walk with me out of this building" the man in the suit looked calm, and as far as James could tell, being perfectly honest. "What's the catch?" said James, not buying that someone would pay bail for a nothing murderer like him.

"The catch is that you spend five years in a special training program for elite military operatives, before you ask it's a special task force made entirely of death row criminals and undesirables that specialize in suicide missions. We want to help you amend for your mistakes, like killing your mother in a drive by while high on a highly addictive toxin, nothing more nothing less.

"So it's either two years in a hushed up death squad with a bunch of hardcore murderers about my age or I can die? Gee the options" said James, feeling some sarcasm would lighten the mood.

"James, every last person in those cells would give everything to be in your position, and you have the balls to make jokes" he paused; James flinched as he already felt the noose tighten. "Welcome aboard" said the man, "And after you've spent thirty deployments your case will be reassessed and you may end up living in isolation". Reaching out his hand to shake James's hand, James was hesitant, the last time he or his brother shook hands in an office; Things went downhill fast. James brought back his hand "let's just call it a deal." He said. The suit stood up, and motioned the guard behind them to open the door. As he walked out; he wondered what Tommy was going through.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter nine: dog in a cage

Tommy saw his chance and took it, the moment the guards aimed at the poor bastard who ran first, Tommy ran as fast as he could to get into the group of runners. They were half way to the exit when the guards started shooting; he waited until half the group was killed before flailing his arms and falling to the ground, the heavy smell of dirt overwhelming his nose. He took a deep breath and held it, waiting for a guard to check him. When a guard came down to check his pulse, he waited for a second before grabbing the guard's arm and pulling himself up and using the guard as a bullet shield, he picked up the SMG that was on the ground and started shooting at the now terrified guards, most shooting while running back. Tommy shot the guard that he was holding in the head. To stop him from struggling, he was within spitting distance of a car before a bullet hit him in the shoulder. He looked up to see a sniper in a guard tower. Lowering his rifle and giving him the finger. Tommy tried once more to take a step, it felt like he had lead weights on his feet, he grabbed onto the cruiser door, leaving a bloody hand print on it. He was able to open the driver's door before his body gave up, his brain screaming at it to get up. The body won.

Tommy woke up to an incredible pain in his shoulder; he wondered where it came from before remembering the sniper, dick. He grunted as he tried to get up, only to find that he was strapped into the operating table. He opened his eyes to see a white room shared be a dozen other patients. Electronic equipment littered the room; a drone painted white with the Red Cross on it flew over and scanned him, a faint blue line traveled up him, ending at his head. It flew away, a minute later a nurse walked up.

"So you're the asshole who shot at my fiancé and ruined his leg" said the nurse, obviously pissed that she had to treat him. "By the way, that bullet in your shoulder, it was lodged in there pretty tight so a few pieces were left in place, not that you should worry about those, you're on 'A' block, so you should more worry about...actually, I'll let you figure it out, see you at the morgue" she said walking away.

"Hey nurse" yelled Tommy, how about a little painkiller eh?" he said, motioning to his bloody shoulder.

"Sorry" she said "fresh out, used the last bit on my fiancé" even though she was opening up the cabinet full of it.

"That's alright, I'm not a wimp like your boyfriend" he said grinning

The nurse clutched her fist, starred at Tommy for a moment, before stomping away muttering.

Tommy was about to go for a second attack when the door opened, two heavily armed and armoured guards walked up to Tommy.

"Are you Tartoni?" asked one, the other raising his rifle to Tommy's head.

"Yep, so I guess you guys got the memo about what happened out on the court yard?" said Tommy, grinning, making sure they knew who he was

"You're wanted on the A block, someone must have paid well to get you on the first cell to the firing squad." Said the second guard, grabbing Tommy by his bad shoulder, his grin disappeared, replaced with a face twisted in pain.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry OK!" cried Tommy, trying to get the guard off his shoulder.

"By the way, I'm not a wimp" said the first, Tommy looked down to see a bandage on the guard's pants, it was bloody, and Tommy looked up to the first, "oh you have got to be fucking kidding me. Listen, it was nothing personal, right?" said Tommy

The guard said nothing, instead choosing to punch Tommy in the face.

Again Tommy woke up in a room, his head aching from the constant abuse; he cradled his head, falling to the floor in agony. This was not how it was supposed to happen. The gun runners were dead, James was dead, he'd seen the guard take him out with a needle, probably some sort of lethal injection, and above all else, he was going to die. Dead, nothing, he was going to die, but not without a fight he told himself, not without a fight. He looked around for anything of use, his clothes, stained with blood and mud, he looked a zombie, his face was beat to hell, and he could barely stand. Yet he would fight to the bitter end. He prowled around the room, looking for a weakness. In doing so he found a countdown timer. It was set to five hours. So he set into gear to figure out how to escape.

With ten minutes to go, Tommy set himself up so that anyone entering the room would get flanked by him. He waited another five minutes before the door opened.

"Shit" said a voice on the outside; this was followed by a whistle.

"Really?" said another voice. There was a click sound and with that, a cylinder rolled into the chamber, Tommy had learned from experience that metallic things being rolled into rooms often hurt, he covered his face, sure enough a smoke filled the room, Tommy ripped off a part of his shirt to use as a mask, the combination of blood and mud must have neutralized the gas his skin and eyes burned from the gas. His eyes were watering and he could barley breath, he stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity before the guards opened the door and walked in.

"Christ, didn't bang on the door or nothing" said one

"Remember, captain said this one's dangerous, so watch out" said the other. Tommy used the smoke to his advantage, sneaking up behind one of the guards; he put his hand over the guards mouth and twisted his neck, killing him in an instant, he grabbed the now dead officer's baton, the other guard started flailing around helplessly, until Tommy grabbed him by the collar, and hit him over the head with the first ones baton. He slipped on the guard's jacket and hat, then clipped in the tactical belt, and walked out of the room. Tommy had the biggest grin on his face until he walked out, only to find several guards in riot gear pointing rifles at him.

"Son of a bitch, muttered Tommy, sizing up each of the guards. Wondering how many he could take on before he was dead, he reckoned he could give one a black eye before there was enough lead in him to start a mine.

"That won't be necessary, stand down" said a man in a suit, Tommy was confused, why would anyone care about him?

"Tommy, would you follow me to a place where we can speak more privately." Said the man, with no fear in his eyes, despite clearly seeing what Tommy was capable of.

"What about them?" asked Tommy, referring to the riot squad still aiming their weapons at him.

"They will wait outside, if they hear a struggle, then they will kill you. It's very simple" he said, his calm more intimidating then any crime lords' threats.

"Sir, I cannot recommend that, this boy has killed more than just these guards, he is a very capable killer" said the captain, his voice echoed through a speaker on his helmet.

"I deal with people like him all the time captain, stand down" said the man

"Yes sir, alright men, move out" said the captain, his men marching down the corridor.

"Follow me" said the man Tommy followed

They sat in a room, with a simple desk and no ornaments to speak of. The man in the suit was the first to speak.

"Tommy, I'll be blunt, your skills are meant for more than one last struggle before they kill you. You are something else entirely, and with my intervention at this place, you could fill your potential. But only if you prove yourself." Said the man

"What do you want from me?" asked Tommy, intrigued.

"I want you to tell me why you fought those guards, even though you knew the moment that cell cleared, the entire place would have been in lockdown. And you would just die anyway."

"well" said Tommy "I wanted to be remembered, to fight until I die, I won't die like a cow, letting them lead me to my doom, that's not my style, if I wanted to die I would have just let myself, like how they killed my brother with the needle in the court yard" Tommy was sure he was being interviewed, he knew it.

"Perfect, you're in, I would tell you to pack your things but I guess we'll just skip that part." The man looked Tommy straight in the eye "Tommy, you made the right choice" and with that, Tommy and James Tartoni became nothing but two dead boys, their murderous ways punished. The world unknowing of the truth.


	11. Chapter 11

Part two: new life Chapter ten:  
Chapter eleven: Telephone game

James was woken up by what he could assume was his new bunkmate shouting at the top of his lungs "boy I gotta piss like a race horse!" in a southern twang, and slamming the door behind him

"So you my bunkmate?" he said, half curious, half not giving a damn.

"Yea" said James, his head barely leaving the pillow

"So I assume, that I woke you up" he said without a hint of sarcasm

"Yea"

"You don't take nothing from anybody do you?" he asked. Something happened in James's mind, he wasn't James Tartoni, the younger brother of Tommy, he was his own person, and no one had any idea who he was. He was James Tartoni, best criminal driver in the state.

"No, I don't" he said, trying to sound as badass as he could, which was really apparently, which surprised him.

"And guess what, neither do I, so how about we just don't piss each other off alright?" he said, calling James's bluff.

"Sounds good to me" said James, sinking back into sleep.

It was six when the alarm went off, a simple deep rumbling beep, it went on for about two minutes, by which time James was thoroughly dressed and ready for what lie ahead. He put on a fresh shirt, it looked identical to the one he had one before, but this one had his last name on the back, followed by a j, James assumed it was because everyone dressed the same they'd need some way to identify an individual. Stepping out of the room he walked into the dorm's main hall, this was two meters wide, to one end was a door to the rest of the facility, to the other, three doors down, was the common room, which had a few people in it, as James was walking to the common, an announcement came on, the synthetic voice replicating a man in his late thirties.

"First meal in twenty minutes, repeat, first meal in twenty minutes" it sad, no emotion in it. With time to spare, James continued his walk to the commons, there he could see about a half dozen people his age hanging around, some talking, a few were watching TV, and one was sitting on his own. James, a regular outcast could immediately figure out who was who, and that experience let him know that the one sitting on his own was the weird one. The one that was a loner, all it meant to James was that his circle of friends would not include him, associating yourself with the loner made you a loner, no matter where you are, that rule applies. This was reinforced when James caught the loner about to introduce himself, James thought quickly and began walking over to the group talking.

"Kim, I will tell you one more time, I don't want to 'hang out' with you " said the first"we talked on the way here on the bus, that doesn't make us best friends" he continued, after he was done talking, he shouldered his way past James, before James could turn around to see who he was, Kim walked over, James took a glance, he was pale for Asian, had short cut hair, the kind of "short" hair cut some girls use. It was frizzled yet kept, he had glasses, which meant one of two things, he was wearing them because he had bad eyesight, which was doubtful, most things like that are genetically treated, which meant it was likely the second option, he wore them to look different, and to his credit, he pulled it off in spades, they were an old "modern" look, slightly rectangle with full thick rims painted black and not polished. James knew off the start that this guy was a geek.

"Uh...hi, name's Kim Sun, you?" he said, his accent was definitely Korean, his words were planned out, no mistakes in them, he said what he needed.

"James, James Tartoni, um, who was that you were talking to?" said James, getting the feeling that he was introducing himself to a loner, in which case all his hopes of _not_ being a social outcast faded away.

"Oh, that was just Brandon he's really smart, like creepy smart, heard he went to the Adam hither academy of scholars and only guy here that hasn't been in a fight. Ok, so, you want to hang out?" he asked, again not tripping over words, although James got the feeling English was not his first language. "It's pretty hard to find people who don't just walk away; you know that some people here volunteered, like Brandon actually! Heard they get **huge** signing bonuses, like twenty grand!" he continued, ignorant to the fact that James had slowly began trying to back his way out of the conversation. "Oh you busy? That's ok, you know where to find me, actually, I'm in the dorm next to this one, we got green sleeves, we're called sigma, cool hey?" he said, already looking for someone else to pester.

Thankful to be rid of Kim, James set off in search of something to eat, it had been almost three days, the meal on the bus doesn't count because that consisted of two foods he hated, mustard and ham, combined the smell would have made him throw up if he had anything to throw up. The knot in his stomach was getting tighter by the minuet; soon he probably wouldn't be able to stand up. Fortunately, the smell of eggs led him right to the mess hall, by the time he go there were already people sitting down with others, talking as they ate, James practically ran to the counter to get some food, instead of a bunch of cooks he found a machine, sort of what you would find if you combined a cola fountain and a vending machine, grabbing a tray he placed it under the machine, nothing happened. Sighing, he put his identity bracelet under the scanner, and immediately, a small portion of scrambled egg, a small squirt of bland oatmeal, and a bar of protein enriched flavour also known as vat grown bacon, he grabbed a small cup and filled it with some odd smelling coffee, he got the feeling the poor selection of food was to keep everyone in line, grabbing his tray, he set off in search of a table. He spotted a table with only one person at it; he walked over and sat down.

James was halfway through his eggs before the thought occurred to him that there was someone else at the table, looking up from his tray he could tell without a doubt that he had somehow found the looser table, the person in front of him was definitely not a convict, if he had, it would be white collar for sure, he recognised the look of self loathing, the air of insecurity, and the sense that this kid had no friend, not one. The kid was poking at his food, trying to eat it, but just gave up before the fork skewered the food. James figured there was no harm in talking.

"So" he began, and immediately regretted it

"Hey" he said, his voice soft and meek, like his dog had just died, granted, in a place full of killers, academic freaks, and Kim, James could understand not having much to feel happy about.

"Right...well, names James...you?" said James, not sure if he was talking to a loner or a manic depressive.

"Ben" he said as he continued to prod at his now stone cold eggs.

"Well Ben...why are you here" said James, desperate to keep the conversation alive, a conversation that seemed to be on its death bed, crying out to god to smite it.

"I messed up" replied Ben

This was James's area of expertise, he figured that he could breathe some life into the struggling conversation "Oh, I know what you mean, trust me, we are on the same page" he said. With one of those used car salesmen approach to making friends, unnervingly friendly.

"Just leave me alone" said Ben, leaving his tray on the table as he walked away. Just as James was about to continue eating, Kim arrived.

"Oh hey, didn't see you there, wow, really hard to find people you know? With the whole outfit thing" he said, sitting down next to James "so how things been with you?"

James sighed, closed his eyes and tried to ignore Kim.

, it was a credit card, an insurance document, and a drivers licence all in one, and yet even with all those things, it still seemed to stick out, everyone had one, if you couldn't get your girlfriend the right gift, you could buy a scanner online and scan hers to see what she liked. It was just something more to go wrong in James's mind


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter twelve: Back to School

Kim had been talking for over ten minutes straight without any sign of letting up, first he talked about his moms cooking in comparison to the food at the facility, then he talked about a guy that looked like James that Kim knew, then it was about the one time he and a friend tried to break into their school and got caught. After that, James just gave up any hope of Kim shutting up, but finally he cracked.

"Kim" he said. His voice strained with ever faltering self control "shut. The fuck. Up" James was breathing heavily. Kim looked at him stunned.

"Hey, sorry, just figured we two need some-one to look out for each other ya know?" said Kim, a touch of surprise in his voice.

James let out a sigh, regaining control of himself "sorry, just could you please only use one story at a time man, you just go on and on and on, it's annoying" James got the feeling that he should have just pushed him away, find someone who could actually fight, not some nerd who was bound to leave this place via thrown out of the nearest (and highest if at all possible) window. Before he could continue speaking, the intercom turned on.

"Class begins in five minutes, class is as follows, Meta, math, sigma, English, delta, history, alpha, phys Ed. Make your way to the class rooms now, and supplies are provided at the classes"

"Well, see yea" said Kim getting up, leaving his tray for the custodial drones. James himself got up and followed Kim, figuring that he was the only one who actually listened at the tour.

Math was simple, mostly just geometry, James was struggling with it though, as two years without school had had their toll on his math skills. Beside him was Brandon, he was done while James was still on the first question. Hour and a half later they went to history, James was uneasy with how many guards were in the facility, they were heavily armed too, most had assault rifles and shotguns, James had counted at least twelve on their way to class from the mess. History was similar to math, challenging, though it was mostly just naming historic figures, first unit was on the 2010's to 2050's, "_the great change" _ the text book said, when the middle east was a smoking hell and the world began to invest in hydrogen electric, oil mostly used for sport racing and maintenance. At the end of the class, the teacher, a young guy probably in his late twenties handed out data pads for them to study on. Walking out James was almost tempted to drop the thing.

By the time he got back to his bunk it was only one, he leaned over to see what was in the second drawer, pulling it open he found a few books, a pair of holo glasses (holo glasses allowed the user to view media in 3D, as well as being able to interact with it on more expensive models, older models were less expensive, about fifty dollars for a good pair), and a large data pad, more like a writing system. All James knew was that it was more then he'd had at home. Slipping on the Holo glasses he found himself in a huge endless white room, no shadows, as if the walls themselves were made out of faint light, some options filled the air in front of him, there were movies, music and a few basic games, he selected movies and settled into a foreign (British) action movie, James had never heard a British accent before and spent a good deal of the time rewinding and reading the subtitles. About halfway through the movie he felt his chest shrink, a sick sensation flooded him and he lunged out to try and save himself, ripping off the glasses he found Daniel lying in the chair, hands holding his head, James was about to hit him when Daniel shot out his left arm, grabbed James by his wrist and twisted it in an angle that James assumed was impossible.

"What the hell is that for man!" he screamed trying to fight his way out of Daniels grip

"Sorry about that, instinct, I'm a hunter, and sometimes I have the urge to get the drop on people, so just stay on your toes and you'll be fine" he replied, his cool southern accent keeping perfect tone, if he was in a wild west movie, he'd be that really badass guy, guy with no name, you know 'that' guy. For the rest of the evening, James read a book, stopping every minute or so to keep an eye out for Daniel.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter thirteen: Immersion

James had the most wonderful dream, in it he was on a plane, but the plane was a mile long, and was as wide as three houses, in fact, it was not anything like a plane, but it felt like one, an on the other side of it was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, with the kind of grin that told him that she was in desperate need of loosing something, as he ran the plane began to fall gently and he flew into the air, floating, soon he was soaring towards the girl, just as he was about to though, everything stopped, as if it were just he and her, she elegantly jumped to join him as they floated, she undid her bra, and just as James was about to do the deed, the plane began to crash, alarms began to ring, but there was something wrong with them, they were to slow, and then the plane hit the ground.

He awoke to find Daniel with his fist hovering above him

"I swear to god James, if you don't get up real soon I'm guna punch you so hard your grandkids are guna have trouble sleep'n" he said

James was still getting over the fact that the girl was in fact a dream. With the feeling of lose over, he quickly got changed and checked his calendar, _simulation-meet in the front atrium. _He shrugged, figuring it was just the holo goggles with some forced feedback, he'd seen them at the fair all the time.

"Yea, yea I'm up Daniel, no need to kill me" said James, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"You sure? Cause I mean I was ready to punch ya n'all, be right waste of energy if ya know what I mean" replied Daniel, eager to got a chance to punch James

"No no, I'm up, don't worry 'bout it"

"got my punch all lined up and everything"

"I'm getting up now" said James, starting to get fed up

"Fine, take all the fun out of it" said Daniel walking away. James got up, changed and walked out the door. James found himself looking for Kim; he didn't know why though, back in Riddlefield, if you were Kim, you were dead, simple as that. He spotted Kim as he entered the mess, he was fiddling with the scanner on the machine, interested in how many levels of shit Kim was getting into he went to see what would happen next.

"Hey Kim, so...what are doing with the machine?" he asked

Kim didn't bother looking up "I'm trying to reprogram and reconfigure the machines standard 3.8.9 gono scanner to accept my identity bracelet's signature as second tier, so I can get guard rations" he said, James simply nodding as he tried to figure out what he Kim has said, Kim continued to fidget with the poor machine for another few seconds until there was an audible 'click' noise, Kim hovered his identity bracelet under the machine, it was a credit card, an insurance document, and a drivers licence all in one, and yet even with all those things, it still seemed to stick out, everyone had one, if you couldn't get your girlfriend the right gift, you could buy a scanner online and scan hers to see what she liked. It was just something more to go wrong in James's mind. It made uncomfortably bad noises for a moment, beeped, and the machine went silent. Kim moved his tray underneath the tubes, were usually porridge and some artificial bacon would pop out, this time though, it was much better, with a healthy serving of real bacon, glistening with real grease, a pancake, and some scrambled eggs. James was agape, while he and the rest of the chumps got to eat food that spent more time in a vat or the earth then on an animal, Kim got to eat like a regular person.

"Kim" said James "why didn't you tell me you were useful" he continued as he slid his tray under the machine, hoping in vain that he would get the same meal, and sulking when it dropped a ball of porridge into an indent in the tray, followed by some mystery meat bacon.

"The nerds will inherit the earth" he muttered, walking over to the table.

Tommy had always loved showing off, something about beating the crap out of the leader of a group gave him a primal buzz. He and some Latino had been at each other's throats, mostly verbal, but now the term took on a very real meaning. Most institutions have banned open fighting; those that haven't mostly allow it to control the population. However, some fights are accepted, the most popular being head lock. The goal was to keep your opponent in a headlock while he did the same, most tried to strangle their opponents, while others just endured until the other was weak enough to just give up. Tommy, preferred to get it over with, he and the Latino, a guy's name Philippe, and they'd been at it for half an hour, Tommy was currently trying to get a kidney shot, while Philippe was pulling his locked arm with his free one, trying to strangle Tommy, both the boys had sweat pouring from their foreheads. Philippe wiped his eyes, Tommy took his chance and punched him in the chest, Philippe doubled up with a shriek, clutching his chest like a stab wound.

"You piece of shit" he cried "you fucking cheap shot piece of shit, I'm gona fucking kill you!" he screamed, his face red with anger.

"What are you waiting for? I'm right here" said Tommy, with a sly grin; Philippe was on his feet in an instant, charging at Tommy like a demon. He swung out wide at Tommy; Tommy ducked to dodge the punch and came back with a jab to the face followed by a second punch in the eye. Philippe roared with rage and grabbed Tommy's throat. For once Tommy was actually worried, Philippe had a strong grip and he was losing air fast, his heart was pumping, and it seemed like the world was getting fuzzy. Tommy reached out and grabbed Philippe's face, jabbing his thumbs into his eyes. Philippe let go to protect himself. Tommy took a moment to breath before hitting Philippe in the face with a haymaker, his nose exploded in a gush of blood, covering most of Philippe's mouth; Tommy reared up on his left leg and let out a side kick, hitting Philippe in the chest. He staggered for a bit as he gasped for air before tipping over and falling like a guy with a broken nose and a concussion, hard. Tommy looked at the reflective panels, he could see a few bruises around his neck and a few on his chest, satisfied, and he casually walked out of the alpha dorm.

Leaving the mess James and Kim headed out for the meeting in the atrium. The atrium was a large room right before the classrooms, it was a two story room with round tables spread out all over, the chairs were magnetically sealed to the floor but besides from that it was actually the most normal room in the whole complex. Today the tables had been removed and the chairs rearranged into lines, James and Kim split up, as the rows were divided into red, yellow, blue, and green. All of which represented a different group, James took a seat in a blue chair, and waited for whatever was supposed to happen, he looked over at the entrance to the atrium to find a group of guys walking into the room. They had red shirts which meant they were alpha, some of them reminded James of Tommy, who he hadn't given much thought, it was strange, and why had they picked him instead of Tommy? The trough he figured, was that he was dead, gassed or shot it didn't matter, he was dead. Just then a man in a lab coat, followed by several guards walked to the front.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Henderson" he said, his voice carried by experience, he was a middle aged man, but looked younger than that, but his eyes were full of knowledge beyond his humble appearance, James didn't catch any of that but none the less he listened

"We have gathered here today, fifty of the Western hemispheres best recruits, all under one roof, we have several from the patriot youth groups, and Adam Hither military academy no?"

Several ho-ras came from behind him

"I do believe we also have an Adam Hither academy graduate?" Brandon gave a nod

"As well several from recently annexed Canada, please stand up" a few stood up, their faces expressionless, one caught James's eye, a girl, with just the right amount of curve, the goldy locks standard, not to hot, not to cute as he said. They all sat down

"And finally many from the privet and...Judicial sector" James knew this was his cue to stand up; he did so briefly, and sat down without looking around.

"I will not lie" he said, a stern look in his eye "you have been brought here to become the best at what you do, you were selected for one purpose, to fight, you will become soldiers, there is no doubt, what set's you apart is your age, at your age you have yet to meet your physical limits, no crippling injuries, no bad back. You are limitless, the history books may never here of you, but the battles you win will decide the fate of our world, this is why you have been brought here" he finished, walking out of sight. Apparently somebody took the news badly, a boy stood up from his chairs frantically, about seventeen, sweat dripping from his brow "you can't do this man, it's wrong, and...And, I never did anything that bad, I can't take this!" he ran, stumbling several times, he ran down the main hallway, a brief explosion echoed in the halls. And then silence. He had been shot. James looked around; everyone was getting back in their seats, all of them looking around worriedly.

"I forgot to mention, this facility is still a prison by standard, any attempt to flee will result in execution, for those who have not committed a crime, and you will be shot for desertion. Thank you" said the doctor. Murmurs started among the groups. James noticed a man arguing with the doctor. He was wearing a military uniform, medals along his chest were many, at least ten. He looked in his early thirties. Guards walked up to the group, the leader spoke.

"Alright, you will go down these elevators behind me, once at the bottom, find a map of the floor to your right, locate your name on the list next to it and move that room, you will be given instruction from there. That is all, move out!" he said.

James got up from his seat and followed his group, there were twelve of them, with some quick maths, he realised that that if there were four groups, with twelve each, then why would they need fifty, with that one guy dead, that left one without a group. Probably just a clerical error, nothing to be worried about he thought. People were taking their time getting onto the elevators; there were four of them, again marked with the groups colors. By the time they arrived at the bottom James had given up trying to make sense of it all. He walked over to the map, shoving his way to the front, he scanned for his name among the list, he found it, room D3, he paced until he found it. The rooms were about five by five meters big, blocking his way was a metal door, and beside it was a list of names.

**J. TARTONI**

**J. KINDLE**

**A. DOE**

**B. LEVEQUE**

Seeing his name he assumed the door must have a scanner, unlocking it with his bracelet and walked in. Inside he found four metal coffins, two were open, looking inside he found an intricate series of wires held in place by a frame on hinges. Someone else entered, he recognised Brandon, with his white hair and blue eyes he was impossible to miss.

"I recognise you" he said "you're the one Kim seems to have clung on to, aspergers syndrome with him I suspect" James couldn't help it, he laughed.

"aspergers syndrome? Really, as in 'ass burgers'?" he said, trying to hold back his amusement.

"How very juvenile of you, it's discovery was by that of German ancestry" said Brandon in distaste as he walked away.

James continued to inspect the coffins; the inside was layered with a soft gel, like a rubber of some kind. Large tanks were attached to the bottom of it; they were cold to the touch.

Brandon began looking at the coffins as well "If you would care to know, I do think these are simulation pods, thought of the design a few years ago, never thought it was possible, the subjects mind would be destroyed in the transfer, I suspect those tanks are for keeping the subjects body from reacting to the simulations stimuli, absolutely fascinating, never thought it could be done" he seemed almost bewitched by the complexity of the machines, his eyes ignorant to the world. James let him be as he sat down on the floor and waited for instructions. Two minutes later two more boys entered the room, the first one looked like he'd been taken out of a movie, heavy build and crew cut. The second was just average, average build and average height; he honestly could be lost in a crowd of one.

The big one spoke first, "well looks like everyone's here, names Alex, you guys?" he asked casually

"Brandon Leveque" said Brandon

"James"

The small one spoke up "Names Josh Kindle, been here two days and I'm already having second thoughts" he said, probably the kid who had a small circle of friends, spoke like a follower though.

Alex spoke up "ah don't worry about it' he said with little worry.

Before the conversation could continue, the PA came on, it was the guard.

"Enter the pods in the room, stay calm and do not resist" he said. All the boys in the room shrugged and got into the pods, James brought the wire frame down on his body, the lid closed on its own, sealing James inside. James began breathing heavily; a he smelled something in the air. It was gas. He held his breath, trying to keep from breathing it. Thirty seconds later he finally gave up and gasped for air, with the gas in his lungs he began to lose feeling of his hands, feeling more and more tired he eventually passed out.

He was floating in darkness; it was darkness without end, no light, nothing. His body was not there. James tried to move an arm, he could feel it move, but did not see it. His mind survived but his body was gone. Alone in an infinite sea of nothing was too much, he yelled out, trying with all he could to be heard, there was an echo, a perfect echo with no end. He began to feel wind, a soft autumn breeze; he could feel sand beneath on his feet, and yet still there was nothing. He closed his mind's eye, and opened it. He was in a concrete room, along with everyone else he had met in the room, Brandon, Alex and josh, they were all there looking around. James looked down, he saw two feet, but they weren't his, he tried to walk and they moved. Everyone else was doing the same, stumbling around the room trying to get used to their new bodies. Brandon was in the lotus position, breathing slowly and rolling his head around, brining his arms up in a wide arch until they touched above his head.

"Hey, brains" yelled Alex, who was currently stumbling about "what the hell are you doing?" he asked.

Brandon sighed "I'm allowing my mind to become familiar with the avatar body" he replied.

"Ava what?" asked josh

Another sigh "avatar refers to a second body controlled by the user, in this case a digital representation" replied Brandon

"Digital?" said Alex.

Brandon rolled his eyes "on an island of a thousand idiots" he muttered "we are in a computer" he said, sounding like a professor giving a lecture "I'd heard of the concept, digital transfer of the users mind into a computer. But I never thought it was possible, the amount of space needed would be enormous, I researched the equations, and I did a few myself. But there was one flaw. Texture, the amount of data needed to make a square foot of carpet would overload a super computer, so that must mean they are using pre recorded data..." he pondered for a moment, James beat him to it.

"They're using our memories, or at least someone else's." Said James, Brandon jumped on the idea

"Yes, that could be, but individual experience would leave huge holes in the environment, things they've never seen or felt, the list goes on. Only possible explanation is that they are using combined memories, what one person has, everyone has, ingenious, can't believe I didn't think of that.' He looked at James "James, truly when I first met you I assumed that you were a drug addict with the reading skills of a four year old, you have impressed me" he said.

"Gee, thanks. I guess" said James, rolling his eyes. Alex was wandering around the room, trying to figure out what to do, that seemed to the pressing matter.

"Hey, Brandon" he said "we're in a computer right?" he said

Brandon looked plainly at him "yes, I thought we already discussed this" he said, making an effort to make every word punctuate how stupid he thought Alex was.

"So do you think there's a user interface, like voice or something?" replied josh.

"Perhaps" Brandon looked up "computer" he said. A robotic female voice echoed from the very walls "yes?" it said.

"Holy shit that worked" muttered josh "what is our task?" he asked.

"administrators have instructed me to introduce you to the simulation using the method of self education due to the presence of subject M1 or 'Brandon' I felt your group would speed along the learning curve. The goal of this simulation is to become comfortable in the use of all standard methods of combat, including firearms at all ranges as well as hand to hand combat. I am now granting you full use of facilities. Good luck" the voice went silent. Suddenly the room's walls began to slide down, revealing a large room about the size of three buses side by side, with a small wall in the middle going half way across.

James looked down at his body. His facility clothes had changed, his T-shirt had changed into a black shirt with blue bands running around the sleeve, and he had fingerless gloves on. Looking around he realized that most of the room was dedicated to holding various weapons and armour, with many tables holding tools and shelves on them, most likely for maintenance and modifying. He walked over to the armour racks. There were only four armour racks, one for each of them, James looked and found one with his name on top. Reaching out he touched the armour, it was real, lifting it off of its perch he put it on, it was basic Kevlar body armour, the type often worn by police, and it gave modest protection to the user, protecting the arms, body and head. Walking around the room James found that it if tailored to his size. He looked over at the armour rack, he noticed a control panel, it only had directional buttons on it, left right and select, he pressed one and another type of armour materialized, he pushed the button again and another one took its place.

"Hey Brandon, what the hell's going on with the room, the armour here keeps on changing when I press this button" yelled James, looking over his shoulder to see where he was, he could see Alex arguing with the computer

"What do you mean military weapons are unavailable? They're right there I can SEE them" he yelled

"Due to the nature of the mission, only civilian grade munitions are available" said the computer" Alex shrugged and grabbed the biggest pistol he could and set to work on it.

James passed Josh who was testing out an SMG. He found Brandon examining a selection of pistols, James recognised most of them.

"If you're looking for a pistol I'd say to get the TG 6: 9mm, it's a good all round pistol, bad ammo capacity but good range, and the kick from it is almost nothing" said James, Brandon looked over.

"I was thinking about it, anyway I'm guessing your here because of the strange nature of this room, more specifically the way you select things. From what I've gathered this room acts as a command post for any simulation we happen to be in. The armour changing is just a way of making mundane things like armour and weapon selection more streamlined" Brandon paused "did you get any of that?" he asked

James was hesitant "so it's like a video game right? He said

"More or less yes, if that will keep you away from me than yes, it's like a video game" said Brandon, beginning to loath his teammates for their lack of a 180+ IQ.

James looked around the wall, ever inch dedicated to holding sweet deadly hardware. Picking up a gun from its perch he toyed around with it, it was a 8mm machine pistol, grabbing a second one he put the spare on a magnet on his pants, the gun stuck in place. Grabbing a clip of ammo from a drawer he loaded it, a metallic cling as it slid into place.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter fourteen: calm before the storm

With the team geared up they were transported to the briefing room. It was a simple room, a digital table (tables that have a user interface enhanced touch screen with minor holographic effects) for displaying the area that they would be fighting in and four seats around it. Brandon and Alex sat opposite to each other; James took his seat just as the briefing began. The table lit up, revealing a maze of small apartments and squatter slums, a common battlefield during the Canadian annexation. A male synthetic voice spoke up from the table itself.

"What you see before you is the small town a 'Gasto'. It's been taken by rebels and it's our job to eliminate or minimize the presence of rebels. We have no way to estimate how many there are inside this particular area. You will be the first on the ground, we have a landing zone marked here" the computer lit up a small field five hundred meters away from the town "once landed you will take this building" a two story house lit up red, a dotted line represented the path to take "once there you will await further orders. Any questions?" it asked. Alex spoke up.

"Computer" he said "will we be receiving reinforcements?" he asked

"Negative" it replied "one helicopter could give away your position, a group of them would immediately cause a full alarm, once the apartment is clear, you will await further orders" the computer finished. Something about how they were armed was worrying James.

"Computer, if we're taking the role of recon, shouldn't we at least be allowed rifles and proper body armour?" he asked, the rest of the group nodded in agreement.

"You are militia, you arm yourselves" it said. It dawned on James, they were playing the role of militia, during the annexation, some citizens joined the cause without joining the army, soldiers used them for more basic duties. They sent eager militia men for things like recon and the like keep them out of the way. That was what was happening considering the mission description, they were most likely going to just camp out in the apartment and give coordinates of positions, easy really.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter fifteen: first blood

They had been waiting in a small apartment for three hours now, each taking turns on watch. Once and a while a small conversation would break out but every time silence came. Brandon was tuning the equipment, getting better reception with satellites and the like; josh had just started his watch and was busy staring at nothing. Alex kept cleaning his gun, and James was staring into space. Bored he looked over at josh.

"Anything?" he asked, josh barely moved his head

"Nothing, just two guys on watch, just like the last time you asked" josh replied

Unsatisfied with the answer James pressed on. "What are they doing?" said James pressing.

Josh was beginning to get annoyed "They're just standing there talking alright, that's all their doing, so when you ask in the next five minutes, my answer is still gon'a be their still just standing there and their still just talking OK" Josh sighed heavily and got back to keeping watch. James however couldn't resist one last jab.

"What're they talking about?" he asked slyly.

Josh glared at James "James, shut the hell up" was all Josh said.

Satisfied, James got back to staring at the wall.

James tried his luck with Brandon

"Hey Brandon, how's the tuning going" he asked

Brandon stared at James, for once for James Brandon actually scared him, so James backed off.

James gave up "I'm bored out of my gourd here, what the hell are we doing?" he moaned

"Waiting for orders jackass, so quit your bitching, if you want something to do, go grab..." Alex paused "hey Brandon what'd you ask me to get?" he asked.

Brandon looked up from his work "I need any 8g cell phones you can find and a satellite enabled device, the laser designator we have is faulty, would have targeted US instead of where we point the laser, so we need a new GPS, that should be it" Brandon finished speaking and went back to working

Alex looked at James "you get that?" he said

James jogged down the old wooden stairs in the back; they led to an electronics shop on the bottom floor. Pacing through the aisles poking about for equipment needed, he stumbled past a few ancient plasma HD TV's before finding the cell phone stand, grabbing what he could he stuffed them into his pockets. Just as James was about to leave he spotted a GPS package lying in some rubble, looking around to make sure there were no enemy patrols around he made his way to the front. As James was making his way to the front he tripped on some fallen debris, this wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't hit a shelf, causing it to stumble slightly. Holding his breath James made a silent prayer for it to not fall, but the gods were having fun and decided to play a game. The shelve fell with a crash, causing anything upright to fall and hit the ground as laud as possible.

"Oh shit" muttered James, dashing to the back stairs he found his teammates already rushing down. James decided to make the first move

"I can explain" he said, Alex had had enough though.

"James" he said with barely contained hatred "I give you one task and you fuck it up! You stupid stupid moron" he yelled. Brandon interrupted

"Alex, the second stupid was not necessary, in any case, we should be evacuating before guards arrive, and they will" he said. Just as James was about to speak up though, a hail of bullets tore through the shops windows, dust kicked up and the wall behind them began to disintegrate. Alex pulled James to the ground, the rest ducked; the sound coming from the machine gun was like thunder, except at five times a second, a whoosh sound came from the front, Alex's training told him this was an RPG, he gritted his teeth as an explosion erupted upstairs, searing heat cooked their skin, splinters showered them, a cry came out, James looked and saw josh cradling his arm. James was ready for a second rush of bullets, but then he heard something

"assez! vous deux y aller et de les tuer, à la fois de vous faire le tour et les encadrent"

James heard marching from outside the store; Alex was already reaching for his pistol

"On my count, run for the backdoor" he said. The group readied themselves for the retreat.

"Three"

"Two"

"One"

The boys stormed for the backdoor, a second later Alex started firing his pistol, a cry came out from the front, Alex had hit one of the rebels. James had made it past the back door and was now covering the side of the store, the machine pistol he was carrying was covered in soot, he was sure it wouldn't fire, before he could contemplate on it any further though, a rebel had ran around the back to flank them, seeing James he raised his rifle to fire but James beat him to it. James shot at the rebel for a few seconds before letting off the trigger, he pulled out his clip to see if there was anything left, by the weight he figured he had half a clip left. A fire fight had erupted inside the store, the machine gun outside continued firing, pinning everyone down, James knew they would be killed if he didn't do something. Gritting his teeth he ran down the side of the house, grabbing the assault rifle the rebel had dropped. It was a tushido SR5, China's response to the long lived AK- series. It still had a full magazine. Taking cover at the corner of the shop he could see that the machine gun was mounted on top of a rusting yellow pickup truck. The corner was on his right, meaning when he came out to shoot, he would be exposed to enemy fire. With a silent curse he jumped out of cover and took the shot.

His heart was pounding in his ears, his peripherals were fogging up, all his focus on the sights of the gun, everything was happening so slowly. He could see individual flashes from the machine gun. He took a breath, lined up the sights, and pulled the trigger. He felt the recoil in his shoulder, the sudden heat blasting his face. Slowly things began to speed up. The machine gun stopped firing; James could see a dead rebel slumped over the gun.

Alex saw James make a run for. he struggled to his feet; he saw a group enter the front of the store. They saw him and opened fire. Once again the machine gun started firing. Between the machine gunner and the rebels Alex knew this was the end. Josh was on his feet, readying his SMG. One of the rebels broke cover, Alex took his chance and fired, and the rebel screamed and fell to the ground. Josh was shooting at the cover, together they were surviving but barely. Suddenly josh was flung across the ground and hit the wall with a dull thud. His shoulder was bleeding profusely. He had been hit. Alex was ready to accept death when the machine gun stopped firing. A few seconds later in ran James holding a rifle. Alex shot the last rebel as he broke cover.

"You flank that gunner?" he yelled, part def from the constant gun fire.

James looked exhausted "yea that was me" he replied

"I hate to be the one to break the bad news but josh is almost dead, does anyone have bio-foam on them?" said Brandon, he was hunched over josh, keeping pressure on the wound.

"James, you have some right?" said Alex, who was still covering the entrance.

"Yea I have some, but we should get out of here, I bet everyone in a quarter mile heard that" replied James

"Good idea, Brandon, is he stable?" Alex was beginning to take the role of a leader.

Brandon looked up "he stable but without care he won't last beyond ten minutes."

Alex rolled his eyes "so that's stable?"

Without another word, Brandon and Alex helped Josh to his feet. James led them to the truck.

"Guys, I have an idea, grab some of those bandanas and the rifles; we slap those on and rush out in disguise." James realised that when spoken out loud the plan sounded horrible.

Brandon of all people, saw the value in this "it may give us enough time to treat Josh" he said

Alex shrugged "If Brandon thinks it'll work, good chance it will. Josh, you handle josh in the back of the truck, James you drive, I'll take the gun" he said, already climbing into the back of the truck

James grinned as he started up the truck "Driving ,finally, something I'm good at"


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter sixteen: Cross Bow

They had been driving for ten minutes now, passing guard posts without question. To the rebels James and company looked like a bunch of looters helping out the cause. Brandon was in the back with josh still trying to keep him alive with only basic tools. They veered off the main road and took refuge in a parking garage. James jumped out of the driver's seat to help out with josh.

"Hey Brandon" he said "got one more bio foam syringe if you need it". James had never gotten a good look at the wound, it was a brutal hole in his shoulder, crusted maroon blood covered most of joshes arm, and Brandon's hand. Brandon injected another dose of bio foam into josh's arm. The foam sizzled and formed a new patch of bone and muscle. It worked like an instant injection of fast acting stem cells. Or at least that's what James had heard, for all he knew it worked on magic.

"Ok" Brandon had gotten up and was wiping his hands on his shirt "The pain will still be there but physically your fine" josh was starting to get up.

"Thanks for that, but what'd we do now? I mean, they're bound to find the fire fight and then we're screwed." Josh slumped on the side of the truck. The team stood solemnly for a few moments to let the reality sink in. a few ideas were said but overall, they knew the mission had failed, they would be found and killed, or they escaped and the city fortified itself and American soldiers died attacking it. Josh looked up at the group

"Would it be possible to get in touch with command?" he asked

James cut in "Impossible, we lost all the hard ware in the shop"

Brandon bit his lip. "Actually, I must admit I sent you down there to get rid of you, though the laser designator is still fried."

"Thanks a lot" replied James.

Brandon began fiddling with his wrist computer, a standard issue tactical field command system or TFCS for short; though no matter which way you say it it still doesn't roll off the tongue.

"I did it!" cried Brandon "quick bring your HUD's down (a HUD is a Heads up Display) bringing down their helmet visors they were able to contact command.

"Militia one do you read me." Said the commander, he was about forty seven  
"Command this is militia one, do you copy" replied Alex

"Perfect, we've been trying to contact you for a few hours now, your mission is as follows, at the southern end of the city is a weapons cache, it contains most of the weapons for this area, with it destroyed, most of the rebels will disperse from the area."

"Roger command" continued Alex "Anything else?"

"Yes, your laser designator has been assigned tier one priority to Cross Bow long range artillery. Expect a thirty second delay so don't use it in a fire fight. It is a demolition shot." And with that they were gone.

"Brandon" said Alex "do you have the coordinates?" Alex was already climbing into the trucks gunner position.

"Yes, it's about a five mile drive from here" replied Brandon.

"Hey josh, you Ok to fight?" asked James, still concerned about josh's arm

"I'll be fine" said josh

About three miles into the drive they heard the news on the radio, the rebels had found their dead comrades and had the entire city in lock down, just as things couldn't get worse though, they were discovered by a checkpoint group. They waved them closer, James obliged.

James whispered into his headset "when we get close, shoot them with the machine gun". Apparently to Alex close meant right now, the machine gun above roared into life, the thunderous rounds were deafening. Immediately the checkpoint nest began to crumble. James slammed on the gas sending a storm of loose gravel behind him. Alarms began to ring. James could hear engines closing in on them. The race was on.

The truck's fuel gauge was nearing empty. About a hundred meters behind them was a convoy of trucks, more and more pouring out of side streets that riddled the side of the road, their crews ready to open fire on James and company. James popped open the back window.

"Brandon" he shouted, "take my rifle, you'll need it!" he threw the gun into the back. Alex had taken the massive gun from the top of the truck and positioned it on the tail gate of the truck. He started firing off massive bursts at the chasing trucks. Brandon and josh took turns shooting and reloading, keeping a constant stream of gunfire. A moment later the rebels started shooting, hundreds of bullets were littering the ground around them. The boys in the back dropped to the floor. The back of the truck was being ripped to shreds, the back window shattered as bullets poured in, covered in broken glass James cringed as they went out of control. He felt the smooth pavement disappear; they went over the ditch at the side of the road.

James wasn't ever conscious for the impact; they had hit an old oak at the side of the road. He tried to move but was stuck. He looked down only to find the top of the truck, the roof bent and buckled. The seat belt had left him dangling from the seat, with blood rushing to his head James was already becoming light headed, with whatever coordination he had left, he cut the belt, having only now realised that the seat belt was the only thing holding him up, he managed to get an "oh" followed by a half finished "shi-"before crunching on the ground. With a grunt he struggled to his feet. It was only now that he could smell the diesel fumes, so thick and noxious was it that he could hardly breathe. Now staggering and coughing he crawled out of the wreckage. Once out he rested, doubling over in exhaustion. To his front was the city, behind him there was the forest. He ran to the back of the truck, trying to find Alex and the rest. Once at the back he knew right away that they were dead, twenty feet away lay his friends, catapulted out of the truck when they crashed, he'd killed them, and if he'd kept his eyes on the road they would have survived. But like always he had been a coward, a tear welled up. He fought the urge to give up, punching the wreck with his rage, he roared with all the hate he could muster, not for the rebels but for himself. The rebels had done nothing, if James had been the man he should have been, this wouldn't have happened. He heard a gurgling sound, looking back he could see one of them was getting up, rushing over he realised it was Brandon, though his white hair was matted with blood.

"Brandon" yelled James; he helped his friend in arms to his knees. "Are you ok?"

Brandon said nothing for a moment, before hacking up blood from his throat "James, I can't feel...I...I'm, sorry. James, leave me to patch myself up, you need to finish the mission" Brandon sounded different; there was no panic or anything.

"How are we not panicking, how can we be like soldiers when we have no training?" James had been wondering this since he made the shot with the rifle. Brandon was looking into space now

"It's part of the training, they put it in your mind when you need it, James, remember-" Brandon was out of breath, he had another coughing fit before slumping over.

James cut in "save it, you need keep yourself alive, just stay put" he took the laser from Brandon, leaving him to die, he knew Brandon was dead. He felt something on his chest; he looked down at his ruined kit to discover a blooming rose of blood on his side. It was only now that he felt the agony of the wound; he tore off his body armour so he could better see the wound. It was a ghastly scar, digging in two inches and six inches across. He dropped to his knees at the sight. He couldn't remember getting cut, though he was unconscious for who knows how long. Blood was pouring out at this point, the numb feeling was coming across his body, and finally he passed out. Embracing the cold, the darkness slowly forming, in the distance he could hear engines and shouts in French.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter eighteen: resurrection

There was a feeling of a thousand knives cutting at his chest, ripping away at his very being, but instead of seeing darkness, there was a blinding light. Slowly it dimmed; slowly he felt his soul slither into its den. He opened his eyes, it felt as though he'd been napping like he had done in geometry, that lightness of the face. But then the pain came, the wound. The scar was still there, oozing out blood. James cried out in agony, clawing his way out of the coffin and onto the white floor. But then the pain was gone. Everything was gone. All the marks and bruises were gone, and the bleeding was all gone. Looking around the room things began to take form. They were in the room, the same room where he had met his team. His team... Thoughts raced through his head when he got hit by the truth, Brandon had said it himself. It was all a simulation. All of it, nothing had happened. James dusted himself off and stood up. The metal walls a thankful change from the concrete warzone they had been fighting in. His clothes were back to normal as well, the standard blue shirt and plain cargo pants. He took a few breaths before looking around. Lights lit up the floor and guided everyone to the elevators; James could hear murmurs among the crowd.

"You felt it too?"

"I'd never killed someone before..."

"You see that head shot, Fucking Canuck never stood a chance!"

"Everything felt so real..."

The opinions varied but James had learned one thing, they were probably the only group to fail.

Once on the top floor the general was standing near the far corner of the room, with him was Dr. Henderson, the two men were pointing out people as they walked past, a quick look on their data pads and back to pointing out. He noticed them looking at him for a moment before moving their attention elsewhere. A pang of guilt rose inside of him, he knew the reason they were looking at him, it was because he had failed, he was probably going to be kicked out, either that or executed, same thing really. His one chance to save himself and he blew it. At least Tommy had gone out fighting. The thought of Tommy brought an unexpected feeling, remorse. Despite it all James still missed Tommy, his gung-ho attitude made the day go by. Without him James had no one to prove wrong. It was the strangest thing hating and missing someone


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter eighteen: resurrection

There was a feeling of a thousand knives cutting at his chest, ripping away at his very being, but instead of seeing darkness, there was a blinding light. Slowly it dimmed; slowly he felt his soul slither into its den. He opened his eyes, it felt as though he'd been napping like he had done in geometry, that lightness of the face. But then the pain came, the wound. The scar was still there, oozing out blood. James cried out in agony, clawing his way out of the coffin and onto the white floor. But then the pain was gone. Everything was gone. All the marks and bruises were gone, and the bleeding was all gone. Looking around the room things began to take form. They were in the room, the same room where he had met his team. His team... Thoughts raced through his head when he got hit by the truth, Brandon had said it himself. It was all a simulation. All of it, nothing had happened. James dusted himself off and stood up. The metal walls a thankful change from the concrete warzone they had been fighting in. His clothes were back to normal as well, the standard blue shirt and plain cargo pants. He took a few breaths before looking around. Lights lit up the floor and guided everyone to the elevators; James could hear murmurs among the crowd.

"You felt it too?"

"I'd never killed someone before..."

"You see that head shot, Fucking Canuck never stood a chance!"

"Everything felt so real..."

The opinions varied but James had learned one thing, they were probably the only group to fail.

Once on the top floor the general was standing near the far corner of the room, with him was Dr. Henderson, the two men were pointing out people as they walked past, a quick look on their data pads and back to pointing out. He noticed them looking at him for a moment before moving their attention elsewhere. A pang of guilt rose inside of him, he knew the reason they were looking at him, it was because he had failed, he was probably going to be kicked out, either that or executed, same thing really. His one chance to save himself and he blew it. At least Tommy had gone out fighting. The thought of Tommy brought an unexpected feeling, remorse. Despite it all James still missed Tommy, his gung-ho attitude made the day go by. Without him James had no one to prove wrong. It was the strangest thing hating and missing someone


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter nineteen: odd one out

Ben had always been left out, short kid with no social skills? Perfectly designed to have no friends, a winning combination. No here liked him, everybody was either crazy or an asshole, in most cases both. The man said he would be part of something bigger, but what, all he could remember was something to serve your country. He was in no position to be picky. But now with everything happening, he had his doubts. The simulations, the people, they all seemed to be out of his reach. He died in the simulation for one, didn't even kill anything. He just stepped on a mine, and after words his team had laughed at him, but he'd show them, he'd be better. But that was for another day.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter twenty: back in reality

After the simulations came the classes, it turned out that a day in the simulation was the equivalent of an hour in real time, so that left plenty of time for classes. This time it was geography and science. Though there was something off about them, geography focused on military thing like how to traverse terrain and using it for defensive operations, which was actually kind off interesting, or at least more so than learning about rock formations. Science was the same though, which was disappointing to James as he was looking forward to learning how to make an IED. What he got instead was how to tell the difference between two lumps of metal. After that it was back to the rooms for a one hour break. James spent this time sleeping, though it was less sleeping and more seeing flash backs of the mission. Shooting the gunner, everything, he could feel the kickback from the rifle. He felt the blood from the cut trickle down his side. And when he opened his eyes it was gone, as if the battle was a creature infecting his dreams. Giving up the hope of any sleep James stepped out into the common room. Everyone was huddled against a wall or twisting and turning, trying to get some sleep. One girl was panicking, her friend trying to calm her down but failing to do so. It seems he wasn't the only one feeling the shell shock of the battle. Out in the main hall people were doing sprints, running as fast as they could before turning around and doing it again. Most of them were from sigma and delta, and every last one of them was covered in sweat, James stopped one of the boys.

"What the hell is this?" he asked

The boy spoke between pants of desperate breaths "we're trying to pass out, get some sleep, you're welcome to join but...few guys have already gotten a concussions hitting each other." The boy shook his head, a rainfall of sweat poured down on the floor, and he was back to running. Walking onward to the gym James could see inside of the alpha rooms. Inside he could see a group fighting. Though most were chatting, their hand gestures revealed that they were talking about the battle, apparently not everyone was shaken up about the fight.

The gym was fairly big. It had two levels. The first was a gym like you would find at a school, and the top floor was dedicated to weights and other machines. James picked a bench press. He loaded on some weights and got to work. It was a light load but he was going for repetition. He took his mind off the workout by looking around. All the equipment was new. That was for sure. All the weights were the electro magnet type. And the floor didn't have a single stain. He heard grunting from one of the stationary bikes. Low and behold it was Kim. Before James could speak a word Kim pounced on the opportunity

"You can't sleep either? Yea heard it all about this post-traumatic stress disorder thing. Don't know much about it, but I guess it about the fighting we did." He paused for a moment, thinking "hey, forgot t ask! Where did you fight? We were set up in this jungle. It was so crazy. I think it was in the Caribbean but too hard to tell. You?" James closed his eyes and let the memories pour in.

"We were in Quebec, middle of the fall, about fifty degrees I'd say, we had to take this armoury in a city, can't quite remember the name of the place. We got cornered in a parking garage, so we booked it to the armoury and ended up getting killed in a crash." James could see everything so clearly. Even if it never happened it felt so real. Kim looked impressed.

"You got killed? You're like the most Bad ass guy I know, our mission wasn't so difficult. Fought like... ten guys at most" this took James by surprise, if Kim's group hadn't had that hard of a mission, then maybe, just maybe he was supposed to fail.

"it was a suicide mission..." James starred into space, his face didn't move, lips twitching as he thought. latching the dumbbell onto the safety bar, he jumped from the bench with the speed to shame a samurai. He had an appointment with the doctor.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter twenty one: the good doctorTo the director of project "fallen Angle" From the department of defence: prototype comity Our agency has always held the progression of military technology in the highest regard. To that extent I have recently become interested in the goal of some of our more 'taxing' projects. I look forward to hearing from you Mr Henderson. On another matter: if it turns out you have wasted hundreds of millions of dollars in these simulation chambers, you will not wish to live another day Taylor Bower: Defence comity president

Dr. Henderson looked at the note dully before deleting it. In front of him sat Major Nectal, he was clean shaven, a veteran from the Canadian annexation, he looked about forty but the doctor could never tell for sure. The computer beside him beeped.

"Yes...now for what we have been waiting for" he said, his German accent slipping. They had been anxiously awaiting the data from the first simulation. They had put most of the subjects in fairly easy missions, most of which ended in success, though six groups had been given suicide missions. The major had wanted to put them all in suicide missions and see who made it out the best. Henderson disagreed at first though. So they came to an agreement. The simulation would choose the six best candidates for the missions. And of those six whoever did the best would be established as team commanders. Overall the suicide missions were exactly that. Suicidal, all ended up dead, though some survived longer than others.

The major was not impressed "not a single one even got close to completing the objective. Things are worse than I expected, at least the others finished their missions. But these six... I didn't design the missions to be impossible! The chances of survival were just low. What do you think Henderson?" he was worried, the major never asked somebody's opinion unless he was nervous.

"Major, if there is one thing I have learned in my years of practice, it is that you cannot expect so much of so little. I say immerse them into the combat more slowly. It will take time but I assure you major. You will get your results, it will just take a bit more...encouragement. Continue the training as scheduled; I will design the next simulations. I have a friend in sociology; he will get us what we need." Nectal was not impressed.

"We need these soldiers now damn'it!" he shouted, the years as a drill sergeant gave him a fearful advantage when it came to arguments. "I've got the pentagon breathing down my neck about this project and you want MORE time! The Japanese have just tested a stealth bomber at mach 5 at 90,000 feet. We need an advantage for Christ sake!" Henderson rolled his eyes

"When the soldiers are ready, there will not be an army we cannot defeat, these soldiers will topple empires! They will be invincible, un-stoppable war machines. And if you want your money's worth you will have to wait!" Henderson rarely shouted, his light frame would not allow it. Lightly winded he sat down.

A sigh of forced agreement came from Nectal. "Fine" the words were coming with difficulty, he hated loosing an argument "Take all the damn time you need, are we done here?" he finished, walking out of the office.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter twenty two: just call me sarge

James had spent two hours in the gym before finally being tired, the classes had been cancelled, his arm's burned and his head was matted in wet hair. With much effort he made his way out of the gym, it took all his strength not to cry out at how much pain he was in. Kim had fallen asleep on the bike, slumped over the handle bars. Making his way to the rooms, he found the runners on the main hall, must slumped over panting, a few lucky ones asleep and panting.

"Mr Sandman being a bitch today or what?"

One of the runners still conscious made an effort to look at him "fuck off" he said between wheezes of desperate breaths. The conversations took it out of him, he slumped his head back against the metal wall. James found the dorm; it was quite as a graveyard in off season. His odyssey ended with his room. He slid into bed and waited for darkness to come, it did, and it came with a vengeance. Inside his mind the dreams were more intense than ever, he could feel bullets ripping into his flesh, he could see Brandon dying. And worst of all, he could see himself dying. The feeling was devastating. Slowly though, sleep came over of him.

He opened his eyes; he then immediately shut them again. His arm's felt like two lead weights hooked up to a power line. It was five to six, James decided to beat the alarm, getting dressed as quickly as his burning arms would allow. Daniel, the ever vigilante hunter that he was and never one to miss on a chance to attack such feeble prey. As James bent over to put on his pants Daniel swooped down from the top bunk like a hawk swooping down on un-expecting prey, he landed on James without a sound. James however, made quite a lot of noise. And he was adamant to be heard.

"Daniel!" he screamed "what the fuck is your problem!" it had been the third day in row of random attacks. Daniel for one was not impressed,

"You would not last one day in the wild" he said with a sly smile.

"I don't need to pay attention because I'm not in the fucking wild you psychotic bastard" James kept at screaming until he was done. Daniel stood up, releasing James. Though James was still sore.

He pointed at Daniel, who was now brushing his teeth.

"You have a serious problem" he stormed out of the room.

The daily routine of breakfast went as usual. Eat at the back table, ask Kim to set him up with a better breakfast. And then it was math. They had been doing graphs, something James was not fond of, mostly because he was absolute rubbish at it. The teacher had been asking students to answer questions on the touch board. With five minutes left on the clock James was hopeful he'd not have to do a question. But fate being the bitch she was, was having a bad day and took it out on James.

"James, if y= - (x-4) + 4 what way does the parabola open up?" said the teacher, cursing under his breath James looked at Brandon.

"help me out here man" he whispered. Brandon rolled his eyes

"down" he said.

"Uh, yea the parathing opens down" James held his breath

"Excellent answer Brandon, now James. Where is the vertex on a graph with the equation y= (x+5) - 4" the teacher had called his bluff. James was sweating now, trying to grasp at nonexistent straws for what he had of an education. Biting his lip he looked around for some form of an answer. Everyone was staring at him now.

Luck came to the rescue. The intercom came to life. "James Tartoni to the main office James Tartoni" James couldn't believe his luck, almost dancing to the door with the biggest grin. Making sure the teacher could see him leaving.

While being called to the main office couldn't be good, anything would be better than staying in math. The main office was in the atrium, along the north side. A chain laced window let the occupants view what was happening outside the office. In case someone in the atrium acted up. Inside there was a reception desk. A guard sat behind it, looking out of place with all his equipment on.

"I was sent here..." said James. The guard looked up from a data pad

"Yes, Dr. Henderson and Major Nectal sent for you, it's the second door on the left" the guard quickly got back to work. Inside the director's office was like being in a robotic factory. Functional and without soul nor imperfection. Clocks from different time zones lined the back wall. There were no family pictures or anything. Not even a potted plant. The two men were seated behind a smooth polished desk, rose wood if James were to guess. The doctor began.

"James, perfect, I trust you know why you are here"

James, who was now mentally going through all the things he'd done that could warrant a visit to the office shrugged "no sirs, nothing off the top of my head" Nectal was getting impatient

"Tartoni, you know damn well why you're here." He said accusingly

At this point James was at a loss for words "sir I really have no idea why I'm here!"

Henderson cut in "the simulation, we're talking about the simulation. You know that the mission was a disaster" memories flooded in again, James gripped the table to keep calm.

"Oh...that" he was dead. He knew it; they would toss him back in prison to die. It was a sure thing.

Nectal breathed a heavy sigh before speaking, the room became completely silent. "James, I'll be frank. If a squad performed like that on my command I'd have them court marshalled if they lived. However, you and the group being given militia training, IE what you learned in movies, I can understand failing the mission. Besides, even a trained squad of four couldn't have completed that mission. It was designed to be a suicide mission." Nectal lay back in his chair and waited for Henderson to take over.

"We have discussed this in detail and have chosen you and several others to be team leaders. All the teams will be disbanded and you will recruit for your team."

James was completely dumbfounded "Doctor Henderson, you've got the wrong person. I'm a coward, what about Alex, hell even Brandon would be a better choice" it had to be a mistake; no one in their right mind would make him a leader. This time Nectal spoke up.

"Alex _is_ a team leader now. As for Brandon, well, all I can say is that in simulations Brandon got kicked out of his own team 95% of the time. He's not exactly the easiest person to work for"

James rolled his eyes "you can say that again"

Nectal continued "And Tartoni, I don't care if you don't want to lead. For some reason the computer picked you. It may be the first time in your life but for once. You're taking the lead. You're a leader now, so for god's sake act like it!" something changed at that moment, everything James had lived by had been changed. He was in charge, he felt different somehow, as if his feeling of detachment had been lifted. It was as if a veil had been lifted. He felt strong, he felt in control. For once in his life he was in control


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter twenty four:

Exercise in James's mind was something other people did and he would understand them but never actually do it himself. That all changed with the project, every day was four hours after classes finished. James had been to a few gyms before and had had to do basic gym in year nine but this. This was something different. The drill Sergeant whose name was still a mystery at this point was a man made of what seemed to be pure hatred for anyone not as fit as he. The moment he and the nine others in his group entered the gym he began to yell. He yelled when he was angry, he yelled when he wanted you to do something and he erupted with an ungodly fury when someone complained.

"Common Tartoni what the hell'ya standing around for keep running maggot!" he roared from the sidelines. James huffed one last time and resumed the sprints. There were five groups of two on either side of the white polished metal gym, about fifty meters apart. Each partner had to run to t the middle, back again and to the other side then back to their side while the other partner rested. It'd been going on for ten minutes and there was no sign of it stopping. James had been trying to get into a rhythm for a while now; his focus was broken though when one of the girls on the far side tripped, there was a sharp screech as she cried out in pain

"Smith, get running or we start over you hear me!" he shouted, one of the girls on the far side of the gym winced as she tried to stand up only to fall over again. James wasn't sure if she was crying or if it was sweats pouring down her face. The sergeant motioned one of the guards, a woman by the looks of it to examine the girl. She knelt down and began slowly prodding the girl's leg, the girl screamed when the guard touched he ankle.

"Sir, badly sprained" she said. With help from the guard the girl was able to stagger out of the gym. The drama hadn't gone unnoticed and everyone had stopped.

"No Breaks keep moving!" shouted the sergeant. The gym was once again filled with the sound of panting and thundering footsteps. The girls partner stood hesitantly, not sure what to do

"What'ya standing around for? Keep moving!" the girl stood her ground

"I don't have anyone to train with" she said hesitantly

"I don't give two shits whether you have a partner or not!" the girl looked around pleadingly, the rest of the gym looked away as if they'd turn to stone if even the slightest glance was given. The sergeant marched to the center of the gym

"Alright stop" he said with less of a shout and more raised voice. "Because some of us are too stupid to work on our own we're going to be doing some burn out exercises" a grin on his face grew through his stone cold face.

1


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter twenty four:

Exercise in James's mind was something other people did and he would understand them but never actually do it himself. That all changed with the project, every four days was specialised physical training for four hours after classes finished. James had been to a few gyms before and had had to do basic gym in year nine but this. This was something different. The drill Sergeant whose name was still a mystery at this point was a man made of what seemed to be pure hatred for anyone not as fit as he. The moment he and the rest of the Meta entered the gym he began to yell. He yelled when he was angry, he yelled when he wanted you to do something and he erupted with an ungodly fury when someone complained.

"Common Tartoni what the hell'ya standing around for keep running maggot!" he roared from the sidelines. James huffed one last time and resumed the sprints. There were five groups of two on either side of the white polished metal gym, about fifty meters apart. Each partner had to run to t the middle, back again and to the other side then back to their side while the other partner rested. It'd been going on for ten minutes and there was no sign of it stopping. James had been trying to get into a rhythm for a while now but his focus was broken though when one of the girls on the far side tripped, there was a sharp screech as she cried out in pain

"Smith, get running or we start over you hear me!" he shouted, the girl winced as she tried to stand up only to fall over again. James wasn't sure if she was crying or if it was sweats pouring down her face. The sergeant motioned one of the guards, a woman by the looks of it to examine the girl. She knelt down and began slowly prodding the girl's leg, the girl screamed when the guard touched he ankle.

"Sir, badly sprained" she said. With help from the guard the girl was able to stagger out of the gym. The drama hadn't gone unnoticed and everyone had stopped.

"No Breaks keep moving!" shouted the sergeant. The gym was once again filled with the sound of panting and thundering footsteps. The girls partner stood hesitantly, not sure what to do

"What'ya standing around for? Keep moving!" the girl stood her ground

"I don't have anyone to train with" she said hesitantly

"I don't give two shits whether you have a partner or not!" the girl looked around pleadingly, the rest of the gym looked away as if they'd turn to stone if even the slightest glance was given. The sergeant marched to the center of the gym

"Alright stop" he said with less of a shout and more raised voice. "Because some of us are too stupid to work on our own we're going to be doing some burn out exercises" a grin on his face grew through his stone cold face.

The boy's locker room was at the far side of the gym, there was a small inlet in the coliseum like walls that made up the gym where the entrance was. Inside there were sealed lockers and a shower room. No one bothered to get undressed before standing beneath the lukewarm water. James just stood beneath the spout and tried to calm his breathing, everyone around him tried to wash only to find their limbs limp from exhaustion.

"This is worse than the sprints we did after the sim" muttered tailor, a tall lanky guy with short cut hair. The rest of the boys nodded in agreement, it was a shallow nod but the message was clear. James raised a strained arm underneath the soap dispenser and washed away the dried sweat on his skin, the suds slithered down his legs and into the drain. Drenched like a drowned corpse James turned off the faucet, and headed back to the lockers. He dangled his bracelet lazily toward the scanner and obediently the door swung open. James changed quickly; he pulled his shirt off and tossed it into a bin. While grabbing a fresh shirt he noticed himself in a mirror, the flab was starting to recede but was still visible. Once his pants and shoes were on he began the long tired walk to the mess hall.

Kim as usual was waiting for him. his tray was filled with fresh looking mashed potatoes and long precut pieces of meat.

"James, you ok? You look dead" he said looking concerned. James was too tired to respond. He fell into his chair, slamming his food tray on the table.

'No Really James, your nose is bleeding and everything!" said Kim, James reached up and brushed his face, his arm was coated in a thick maroon colored blood. Looking down he could see the empty bowl in his tray filling with blood as well. Then the feeling came. Numbness like you get when your foot falls asleep, he could feel the neon liquid...neon liquid. It was the psycho, it'd been three weeks since his last dose. The last time he'd screwed up and gotten himself in this mess. The withdrawal was coming, psycho doesn't have any symptoms afterword for up to a month. Then it hits you all at once. The body starts to dissolve, massive internal bleeding when the bone marrow just disintegrates after an hour. Nose bleeds were the first stage, next was coughing blood, then crying blood and finally as insult to injury sweating blood. James could feel the craving clawing on the inside of him like a caged animal.

"I-i-I havta get out of he-"as he spoke spurts of jellied blood began spilling from his mouth.

"Holy shit, fuck, fuck, fuck oh shit!" cried Kim, all eyes were on James now. James felt as though he was going to fall apart from the inside out. Kim began pulling James through the hall. Guards began to notice a screaming Asian guy dragging a friend bleeding from his mouth and started helping. To James it was all a blur, there was screaming into radios and movement but it all meshed together. His last memory was a flashing light and a sudden darkness.

Beeping. Beeping was what he remembered first, from what he could remember from Sunday school there was no beeping in heaven so it was a start, the next thing was the feeling of a bed underneath him, hell isn't known to have beds so James was sure he wasn't dead though not being dead can only take you so far. He took a breath and prepared himself for the worst. He opened his eyes to see a steel ceiling. Still at the facility then, he took a long look around. He was in some sort of hospital; beds lined much of the space. He raised his arm that was the first mistake it hurt like something awful. He could hear rustling to his left

"James... can you hear me?" the voice, the voice felt so close. But he couldn't put a face to it. "James please wake up" again he couldn't put a face to the voice.

"Listen" it was a different voice, older "I'm breaking enough rules letting you be here, I'll let you know when he wakes up alright" the other voice wasn't having it

"Fuck no that's my brother you're talking about, I'm with him whether he dies or wakes up" brother...

James opened his mouth, the pain was horrendous but he drove on

"T-Tommy?" he said

"Holy shit! James can you hear me?" it was Tommy, but it couldn't be. "give him some pain killers so I can talk to him"

"We're already pumping him full of morphine to keep him alive, he needs rest now"

"He's my" the other voice cut him off

"You're brother I realise that but there's nothing you can do now" there was silence for a while

"Alright" James felt the IV pump something into his arm, only a moment later the drug took hold and dragged him back into the darkness of deep sleep.


End file.
